(n 


in 
O 


Laeminle  Donation 


V*  ^Vv  ' 


WILLIAM   E.  BURTON. 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON 

ACTOR,  AUTHOR,  AND  MANAGER 
A   SKETCH    OF    HIS    CAREER 

WITH 

RECOLLECTIONS  OF  HIS  PERFORMANCES 


BY 

WILLIAM    L.    KEESE 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW    YORK   &    LONDON 

G.    P.    PUTNAM'S    SONS 


1885 


COPYRIGHT   BY 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
1885 


Press  of 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
New  York 


TO 

THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON 
THE  AUTHOR'S  FRIENDS  OF  MANY  YEARS,  THIS  MEMORIAL  OF 

THEIR   DISTINGUISHED    FATHER   IS   AFFECTIONATELY 
INSCRIBED 


M15587 


PREFACE. 


THE  present  volume  was  prompted  by  the 
thought  that  no  adequate  account  of  the  late 
William  E.  Burton  had  been  given  to  the  pub- 
lic. During  his  life  no  man  was  better  known, 
and  his  death  called  forth  a  universal  expres- 
sion of  admiration  for  his  genius  and  regret  for 
his  loss.  In  the  many  obituary  notices  by  the 
press  some  brief  details  of  his  career  were 
given  ;  but  the  narrative  was  necessarily  con- 
fined to  the  narrow  limits  of  a  newspaper 
article.  An  actor  so  eminent — one  of  the 
greatest  in  his  line  the  stage  has  known, — 
whose  name  is  identified  with  certain  delinea- 
tions of  character  that  died  with  him  ;  whose 
renown  stamped  his  theatre  with  a  celebrity 
distinct  and  remarkable;  a  Shakespearian 
scholar,  whose  devotion  to  the  poet,  attested 


vi  PREFACE. 

by  the  incomparable  library  he  amassed,  was 
only  equalled  by  his  interpretation  of  the 
master's  spirit,  surely  is  entitled  to  a  more 
pains-taking  and  a  more  extended  record.  An 
endeavor  is  here  made  to  supply  such  need  ; 
and  in  the  view  taken  of  Burton  as  Actor, 
Author,  and  Manager,  the  relation  is  from  birth 
to  death. 

In  the  preparation  of  this  volume,  the  author 
owns  his  indebtedness  to  Ireland's  "  Records 
of  the  New  York  Stage,"  Wood's  "  Personal 
Recollections,"  Wemyss's  "  Theatrical  Biog- 
raphy," Hutton's  "  Plays  and  Players," 
Phelps's  "  Players  of  a  Century,"  Clapp's 
"  Record  of  the  Boston  Stage,"  and  Stone's 
"  Theatrical  Reminiscences."  The  writer  also 
gratefully  acknowledges  the  assistance  given 
him  by  members  of  Mr.  Burton's  family,  and 
their  loan  to  him  of  old  play-bills,  engravings, 
letters,  etc.  Mr.  Matteson,  of  New  York,  may 
also  be  mentioned  in  acknowledgment  of 
friendly  aid. 

The  illustrations  accompanying  the  memoir 


PREFACE.  VI 1 

will  be  viewed  with  interest.  The  frontispiece 
is  from  a  daguerreotype,  and  has  been  chosen 
as  a  faithful  likeness  of  the  comedian.  The 
Bob  Acres  is  from  a  painting  by  T.  Sully,  Jr. ; 
the  Dr.  Ollapod  from  a  portrait  by  Henry 
Inman  ;  the  Captain  Cuttle  and  Aminadab 
Sleek  from  daguerreotypes  ;  the  Timothy 
Toodles  from  a  photograph.  All  the  above  were 
family  possessions.  The  picture  of  the  Cham- 
bers Street  Theatre  is  from  a  water-color 
drawing  in  the  collection  of  Thomas  J.  McKee, 
Esq. 

Many  shortcomings  will  doubtless  be  found 
in  this  book,  and  readers  of  it  who  are  old  play- 
goers may  think  of  many  things  the  author  has 
missed.  But  we  are  told  by  Ruskin  that  there 
is  "  no  purpose  so  great  but  that  slight  actions 
may  help  it,"  and  by  Wordsworth  that 

"Small  service  is  true  service  while  it  lasts." 
DECEMBER,  1884.  W.  L.  K. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON      .         .         .         Frontispiece 
MR.  BURTON  AS  BOB  ACRES          .         .         .10 
MR.  BURTON  AS  DR.  OLLAPOD      ...       24 
PALMO'S  OPERA-HOUSE,  AFTERWARDS   BUR- 
TON'S THEATRE 34 

MR.  BURTON  AS  CAPTAIN  CUTTLE  .  .  56 
MR.  BURTON  AS  TIMOTHY  TOODLES  .  .  94 
MR.  BURTON  AS  AMINADAB  SLEEK  .  .  154 


ix 


CONTENTS. 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON,  1804-1834           .        .  3 

WILLIAM  E.  BURTON,  1834-1848            .         .  8 

BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK,  1848-1856       .        .  33 

BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK,  1856-1860       .         .  100 

LIST  OF  CHARACTERS in 

RECOLLECTIONS      .        .        .         .        .        .121 

MR.  BURTON  IN  FARCE          .        .        .  128 
MR.  BURTON  IN  PARTS  HE  MADE  SPE- 
CIALLY FAMOUS 141 

MR.  BURTON  IN  COMEDY  AND  SHAKES- 
PEARE          ......  158 

MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY         ....  179 

CONCLUSION 207 

INDEX 213 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 
1804-1860. 

" 'He  was  famous,  sir,  in  his  profession,  and  it  was  his  great 
right  to  'be  so" — SHAKESPEARE. 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON.         ;    ... 

1804-1834. 

WILLIAM  EVANS  BURTON,  the  son  of  William 
George  Burton,  an  author  of  some  repute,  was 
born  in  London,  September  24,  1804,  and  died 
in  New  York,  February  10,  1860.  His  father  was 
a  printer,  with  a  bent  of  mind  toward  theology, 
and  gave  expression  to  his  views  in  a  work  en- 
titled "  Biblical  Researches,"  published  in  the 
close  of  the  last  century.  The  son  was  classi- 
cally educated  in  St.  Paul's  School  in  London, 
an  institution  where,  before  his  day,  Elliston 
and  the  elder  Mathews  were  instructed  ;  and 
the  father's  design  was  to  prepare  him  for  the 
ministry.  The  parent's  death,  however,  sum- 
moned him  from  his  studies,  and,  at  the  age 
of  eighteen,  he  assumed  the  direction  of  the 
printing-office,  which  he  managed  for  the  main- 
tenance of  his  mother.  It  may  be  observed 

3 


4  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 

that  one  of  the  specialties  of  the  elder  Burton's 
business  was  the  printing  of  classical  works, 
and  the  son's  knowledge  had  often  been  of  ser- 
vice in  the  matter  of  proof-reading.  From  the 
printing-office  he  was  led  to  the  experiment  of 
editing  a  monthly  magazine,  thus  early  reveal- 
ing an  inclination  toward  the  profession  of  let- 
ters which  never  wholly  deserted  him  ;  fostered 
by  sundry  efforts  of  authorship  in  his  native 
land,  and  appearing  subsequently,  in  this  coun- 
try, in  his  conduct  of  "  The  Gentleman's 
Magazine  "  and  "  Literary  Souvenir,"  and  in 
the  compilation  known  as  "  Burton's  Cyclo- 
paedia of  Wit  and  Humor." 

The  youthful  experiment  was  not  a  substan- 
tial success,  and  did  not  long  continue ;  but  his 
editorship  brought  him  into  connection  with 
certain  members  of  the  dramatic  profession, 
and  he  was  persuaded  (we  wonder  if  persuasion 
were  really  needed  !)  to  make  a  trial  of  his 
stage  ability  by  playing  with  a  company  of 
amateurs.  His  success  in  this  venture  fore- 
shadowed his  destiny,  and  we  find  him  in  1825 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON.  5 

performing  with  a  provincial  company  on  the 
Norwich,  Sussex,  and  Kent  circuits. 

We  cannot  help  the  indulgence,  at  this  mo- 
ment, of  a  playful  fancy  regarding  Burton's 
early  efforts.  Did  he,  in  the  exemplification 
of  tragedy,  which  he  then  aspired  to,  reveal  by 
a  single  facial  example  the  dawning  of  a  future 
Toodle?  Could  imagination  discover  in  the 
dagger  of  Macbeth  the  hook,  and  in  the  Thane 
himself  the  features,  of  EcTard  Ciittle,  Mariner 
of  England?  Did  the  thoughtful  countenance 
of  Hamlet  suggest  in  any  possible  way  the 
lugubriousness  of  an  incipient  Sleek  ?  Did  he 
make  his  Majesty  George  IV.  laugh  at  Wind- 
sor, where,  as  tradition  has  it,  he  played  before 
the  king  at  this  stage  of  his  career?  We  know 
not ;  but  the  mask  of  Melpomene  had  been 
thrown  aside  when,  after  another  round  of  the 
provinces,  with  varying  success,  but  gaining 
celebrity  through  an  unusually  wide  range  of 
parts,  he  made  his  first  appearance  in  London 
in  1831,  as  Wormwood,  in^  "  The  Lottery 
Ticket,"  a  character  that  became  famous  in 


6  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 

his  hands.  This  engagement  was  at  the  Pavil- 
ion Theatre,  and  was  a  highly  successful  one. 
The  great  Liston,  just  twice  Burton's  age,  was 
then  at  the  Haymarket,  and  we  can  imagine 
with  what  emulous  admiration  the  young 
comedian  regarded  the  veteran  actor.  He 
little  dreamed  that  many  of  Listen's  renowned 
characters  would  descend  to  him  by  right  of 
ability  and  comic  power !  In  the  following 
year  (1832)  Liston  retired  from  the  Haymarket, 
"  through  a  pique,"  as  they  say,  and  Burton 
succeeded  him  ;  but  the  audiences  retained  too 
vivid  a  recollection  of  Listen's  performances, 
and  the  engagement  was  only  moderately  suc- 
cessful. Recovering  suddenly  from  his  disaf- 
fection, Liston  returned  to  the  Haymarket, 
and  Burton  in  his  turn  retired,  to  once  more 
make  the  rounds  of  the  provinces.  But  he 
bore  with  him  one  remembrance  in  connection 
with  the  Haymarket  that  consoled  him  for 
many  a  disappointment ;  and  that  was  the 
thought  of  having  played  Marall  to  Edmund 
Kean's  Sir  Giles  Overreach.  The  story  runs 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON.  7 

that  Mrs.  Glover,1  a  leading  actress  of  the  com- 
pany, objected  for  some  reason  to  the  Marall, 
and  declared  that  she  or  Burton  should  be 
omitted  in  the  cast.  Kean,  despite  irregu- 
larities, still  retained  a  remnant  of  his  old  sway, 
and  he  insisted  on  being  supported  by  Burton. 
The  result  was  that  Mrs.  Glover  was  compelled 
to  yield,  and  in  due  course  Marall  appeared 
before  a  full  house,  containing  many  celebrities 
of  the  day.  It  was  at  this  time,  too,  that  a 
production  of  his  pen — the  play  of  "  Ellen 
Wareham,"  2 — enjoyed  the  unusual  distinction 
of  being  performed  at  five  London  theatres  on 
the  same  evening.  A  year  and  a  half  went  by 
in  efforts  to  enhance  his  reputation,  and  it  may 
be  said  that  his  career  was  not  free  from  the 
vicissitudes  that  frequently  attend  dramatic 

1  Dr.  Doran,  in  his  "  Annals  of  the  Stage,"  referring  to  Kean 
in  various  parts,  says  :  "  Among  these,  Sir  Giles  stands  pre- 
eminent for  its  perfectness,  from  the  first  words,  '  Still  cloistered 
up,'  to  the  last  convulsive  breath  drawn  by  him  in  that  famous 
one  scene  of  the  fifth  act,  in  which,  through  his  terrible  intensity, 
he  once  made  so  experienced  an  actress  as  Mrs.  Glover  faint 
away, — not  at  all  out  of  flattery,  but  from  emotion." 

9  First  produced,  May,  1833. 


8  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 

itineracy.  But  through  it  all  he  gained  ground 
and  advanced  steadily  in  his  profession.  He 
played  almost  every  thing;  his  industry  was 
indefatigable,  his  will  indomitable.  The  lamp 
of  experience  never  waned  ;  and  that  knowl- 
edge gained  from  contact  with  the  world  and 
human  nature,  was  a  preparation  for  events 
and  emergencies  in  another  scene  and  another 
land.  For  now  his  thoughts  were  turned 
toward  the  United  States,  and  in  1834  he  de- 
termined to  cross  the  ocean,  and  to  take  the 
chance  of  fortune  and  of  fame. 


1834-1848. 

Burton  landed  on  our  shores  unheralded, 
to  begin  the  twenty-five  years  of  the  artistic 
career  which  holds  so  conspicuous  a  place  in 
the  annals  of  dramatic  achievement.  He  was 
not  "  brought  over,"  and  he  came  at  his  own 
expense.  He  came,  indeed,  with  the  prestige 
of  having  written  "  Ellen  Wareham,"  and  of 
having  made  a  comic  character1  famous  by 

1  Wormwood,  in  "  The  Lottery  Ticket." 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON.  9 

fifty  consecutive  representations ;  but  he  was 
simply  announced  as  coming  "  from  the  Pa- 
vilion Theatre,  London,"  and  he  made  his  first 
appearance  in  America  at  the  Arch  Street 
Theatre,  Philadelphia,  under  the  management 
of  Maywood  &  Co.,  on  September  3,  1824, 
playing  Dr.  Ollapod,  in  Colman's  "  Poor  Gentle- 
man," and  Wormwood,  in  "  The  Lottery  Ticket." 
Ollapod  always  remained  one  of  Burton's  most 
effective  parts.  The  portrait,  on  another  page, 
of  the  comedian  in  that  character  is  from  an 
engraving  by  J.  Sartain  of  a  picture  painted 
from  life  by  Henry  Inman,  in  1840. 

There  lies  before  us  a  bill  (elsewhere  repro- 
duced) of  the  above  theatre,  dated  Wednesday, 
September  10,  1834,  being  the  fourth  night  of 
Burton's  first  engagement  in  this  country. 
The  plays  on  the  occasion  were  Sheridan's 
comedy  of  "  The  Rivals "  and  the  farce  of 
"  The  Lottery  Ticket," — which  last  seems  to 
have  met  with  great  favor,  as  the  bill  states  it 
to  be  a  repetition,  owing  to  "  numerous  en- 
quiries having  been  made  at  the  box-office  " ; 


10  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 

thus  beginning  the  train  of  similar  "  numerous 
enquiries  "  with  which,  in  the  years  to  come, 
his  own  box-office  became  familiar.  Burton 
was  the  Bob  Acres  of  the  comedy  and  Worm- 
wood in  the  farce.  Then  at  the  age  of  thirty, 
we  can  believe  that  the  comedian's  unfolding 
genius  gave  full  promise  of  the  delightful 
humor  which  clothed  his  Acres  at  a  later  day ; 
and  that  in  the  Wormivood  of  the  farce  he 
afforded  glimpses  of  that  wealth  of  comic 
power  which  thereafter,  and  for  so  long,  he 
lavished  for  the  amusement  of  the  public. 
Miss  Pelham  was  the  Lydia  Languish  and  Miss 
Elphinstone  the  Julia,  English  actresses  of  no 
special  distinction  ;  but  it  is  interesting  to  note 
that  Miss  Elphinstone  became  the  second  wife 
of  Sheridan  Knowles,  the  author  of  a  cele- 
brated and  far  more  popular  Julia  than  the 
lady  of  "The  Rivals,"  and  who  appeared  on 
the  Philadelphia  stage  of  that  year. 

Something  akin  to  his  reception  by  the 
audiences  at  the  Haymarket  in  London,  was 
for  a  time  Burton's  experience  in  Philadelphia. 


MR.  BURTON  AS  BOB  ACRES. 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON.  II 

As  the  recollection  of  Liston  by  the  London 
audience  dwarfed  the  efforts  of  the  youthful 
aspirant,  so  the  memory  of  Joseph  Jefferson, 
senior,  (who  played  in  the  city  as  late  as 
1830,')  diluted  the  interest  felt  in  the  new 
actor  by  the  Philadelphia  benches.2  But  the 
native  force  and  humorous  capability  of  the 
comedian  were  destined  to  conquer  indiffer- 
ence ;  and,  although  the  creative  genius  which 
informed  his  subsequent  delineations  was  yet 
to  be  made  clearly  manifest,  he  soon  had  a 
secure  footing ;  and  a  belief  was  strengthening 
in  the  public  mind  that  an  actor  of  rare  endow- 
ments and  promise  had  come  from  the  land  of 
Munden,  Elliston,  and  Liston,  and  one  who 
might,  it  was  not  too  much  to  say,  worthily 
perpetuate  the  traditions  of  Jefferson. 

On  the  fifth  night  of  his  engagement  (Sep- 
tember 12,  1834)  he  played  Timothy  Quaint,  in 
"  The  Soldier's  Daughter,"  and  Tristam  Sappy, 
in  the  afterpiece  of  "  Deaf  as  a  Post,"  and  so 

1  He  died  in  1832. 

8  So  the  memory  of  Burton  in  New  York  to-day  may  still  be 
a  warning  of  the  danger  of  inviting  comparison. 


12  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 

on  through  a  round  of  characters  in  comedy 
and  farce — Daffodil  Twod,  among  the  latter,  in 
"  The  Ladies'  Man  " — written  by  himself — was 
a  great  favorite.  And  it  may  here  be  said,  in 
passing,  that  the  farce,  which  previous  to  Bur- 
ton's advent  had  sunk  into  lethargy,  revived 
under  his  touch  and  became  a  vital  point  of 
attraction.  He  made  a  great  hit  as  Guy  Good- 
luck,  in  "  John  Jones,"  in  which  part  he  sang  a 
comic  song — *' A  Chapter  of  Accidents  " — and 
the  fact  leads  us  to  remark  that  very  few  of 
those  who  saw  the  comedian  in  his  ripe  prime 
were  aware  of  the  musical  talent  he  exhibited 
in  earlier  years,  and  that  he  made  a  specialty 
of  introducing  humorous  ballads  in  his  pieces, 
and  sang  them  with  marked  effect.  A  col- 
lection of  such  songs,  entitled  "  Burton's  Comic 
Songster,"  was  published  in  Philadelphia  in 
1850;  and  we  were  surprised,  on  looking  it 
over,  at  the  quantity  of  mirthful  verse  he  had 
written  and  sung.  The  well-known  ditty  of 
"  The  Cork  Leg,"  it  may  be  mentioned,  was 
written  expressly  for  him. 


ARCH    STREET   THEATRE. 

Doors  open  at  a  quarter  before  7.    Performance  to  commence  at  half- 
past  7  o'clock. 

BOX  75— PIT  374-GALLERY  25  Cts. 
Checks  not  Transferable. 

FOURTH  NIGHT  of  the  Engagement  of 

MR.  BURTON, 

On  which  occasion  will   be  presented  Sheridan's  Comedy  of 

THE    RIVALS. 

BOB  ACRES,  MR.  BURTON 

LYDIA   LANGUISH,   Miss  PELHAM. 
JULIA,          -  -  Miss  ELPHINSTONE 

Numerous  enquiries  having  been  made  at  the  Box  Office  for  a 
repetition  of 

THE  LOTTERY  TICKET, 

It  will  be  performed  THIS    EVENING. 

WORMWOOD,        -----      MR.  BURTON 

WEDNESDAY  EVENING,  SEPTEMBER  IOTH,  1834, 
Will  be  presented  the  Comedy  of 

THE  RIVALS  ; 

OR, 

A     TRIP     TO     BATH. 

Written  by  Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan,  Esq. 
BOB  ACRES,  -  MR.  BURTON 


Sir  Anthony  Absolute,          Mr 
Capt.  Absolute,      .         .         Mr 
Faulkland,      ...        Mr 
Sir  Lucius  O'Trigger,            Mr 
David  Mr 
Servant  Mr 

JULIA, 
LYDIA  LANGUI 

Faulkner 
Murdoch 
Wood 
Hamilton 
Watson 
Eberle 

SH,         - 

Fag,    Mr.  Crutar 
Coachman,         .        .        .        Mr.  Broad 
Cook's  Boy,       ...        Mr.  Kelly 
Mrs.  Malaprop  .        .        .        Mrs.  Jones 
Lucy,          ....        Mrs.  Thayey 

Miss  ELPHlNSTONlt 
Miss  PELHAM. 

^>-»— 

After  which,  the  Laughable  Farce  of 

THE     LOTTERY     TICKET. 

WORMWOOD          -  -  MR.  BURTON 

Performed  by  him  upwards  of  Fifty  successive  nights  in  London. 

Capias Mr.  Watson      I  Susan,       ,        .        .        Mrs.  Thayer 

Charles,       ....        Mr.  Hamilton  |  Mrs.  Corset,    .        .        Miss  Armstrong 

To-Morrow  Evening,  the  Opera  of 

THE     DEVIL'S     BRIDGE. 

COUNT  BELLING,      -  MR.  HUNT 

Being  the  Third  Night  of  his  Engagement. 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON.  13 

The  engagement  of  Burton  with  Maywood 
&  Co.  lasted  two  years,  and  was  renewed  for 
two  more,  during  which  period  the  comedian's 
powers  greatly  developed,  and  displayed  re- 
markable versatility  and  dramatic  resource. 
He  widely  extended  his  repertory,  and  was 
seen  at  the  Arch  and  Chestnut  Street  theatres 
in  a  variety  of  comedy  roles  and  in  innumerable 
farces.  Among  the  many  noted  parts  per- 
formed by  him  at  various  times  we  may  name  : 
Ollapod,  in  "  The  Poor  Gentleman  "  ;  Doctor 
Pangloss,  in  "  The  Heir  at  Law  "  ;  Farmer  Ash- 
field,  in  "Speed,  the  Plough";  Goldfinch,  in 
"  The  Road  to  Ruin " ;  Billy  Lackaday,  in 
"  Sweethearts  and  Wives  "  ;  Tony  Lumpkin,  in 
"  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  "  ;  Maw-worm,  in 
"  The  Hypocrite  "  ;  Sir  Peter  Teazle  and  Sir 
Oliver  Surface,  in  "  The  School  for  Scandal  "  ; 
Mr.  Dove  and  Mr.  Coddle,  in  "  Married  Life  "  ; 
Dogberry  and  Verges,  in  "Much  Ado  About 
Nothing  "  ;  Launcelot  Gobbo,  in  "  The  Merchant 
of  Venice  "  ;  Bob  Acres,  in  "  The  Rivals  "  ;— 
the  last-named  character  he  played  on  one 


14  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 

occasion  with  the  conjunction  of  the  elder 
Wallack  as  Capt.  Absolute,  Tyrone  Power  as 
Sir  Lucius  O'  Trigger,  and  Mr.  Abbot  (an  actor 
celebrated  in  his  day)  as  Falkland ;  truly  a 
striking  distribution.  A  few  of  the  farces  out 
of  the  many  were  "  The  Lottery  Ticket," 
"Sketches  in  India,"  "The  Mummy"  (so 
famous  in  Chambers  Street),  "  No  Song  No 
Supper,"  "John  Jones,"  "Deaf  as  a  Post," 
"  The  Ladies'  Man,"  and  a  piece  called 
"  Cupid,"  which  had  won  renown  in  England 
through  the  acting  of  the  famous  John  Reeve. 
Burton's  growing  popularity  was  substan- 
tially shown  in  the  attendance  at  his  regular 
benefits.  They  were  always  bumpers,  and  oc- 
casions of  warm  demonstrations  of  regard.  He 
was  always  ready,  too,  with  his  sympathy  and 
support  where  the  claims  of  a  professional 
brother  were  in  question.  William  B.  Wood, 
in  his  "  Personal  Recollections  of  the  Stage," 
to  which  work  we  are  indebted  for  much  use- 
ful information,  refers  to  an  occurrence  of  the 
kind  as  follows :  "  I  must  apologize  for  the 


WILLIAM  E.   BURTON.  15 

mention  here  of  a  circumstance  purely  per- 
sonal, which  proved  one  of  the  most  gratifying 
events  of  my  life.  During  the  month  of  De- 
cember, 1835,  while  acting  in  Chestnut  Street, 
Burton  called  me  aside  between  the  acts,  and 
with  an  expression  of  great  pleasure,  informed 
me  that  a  meeting  for  the  purpose  of  giving 
me  a  grand  benefit  had  just  adjourned,  after 
completing  the  necessary  arrangements.  This 
was  the  first  hint  I  ever  had  of  this  intention. 
The  object  was  at  once  carried  into  effect,  and 
on  the  nth  of  January,  1836,  I  was  honored 
by  the  presence  of  one  of  the  most  brilliant 
audiences  ever  assembled.  *  *  *  The  fol- 
lowing entertainment  was  offered  :  *  Three  and 
Deuce,'  two  acts  of  *  Venice  Preserved,'  l  John 
of  Paris,'  '  Antony's  Orations,'  and  a  new  song, 
and  *  How  to  die  for  Love.'  I  was  favored  in 
these  pieces  with  the  valuable  aid  of  Mr.  Balls, 
Mr.  J.  Wallack,  Mr.  Abbot,  Mrs.  and  Miss 
Watson,  Mr.  Wemyss,  and  Mr.  Burton." 

In  the  years  while  the  comedian  was  advan- 
cing in  his  profession,  and  acquiring  that  knowl- 


1 6  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 

edge  of  the  stage  which  distinguished  his 
subsequent  management,  his  pen  was  not  idle. 
He  wrote  several  farces,  and  contributed  stories 
and  sketches  to  the  periodicals  of  the  day. 
These  articles  were  widely  read,  and  a  collec- 
tion of  them  was  published  by  Peterson  at  a 
later  date,  with  the  title,  "  Waggeries  and 
Vagaries  " — a  volume  that  has  afforded  enter- 
tainment to  many  readers  of  light  literature. 
The  literary  taste  referred  to  at  the  beginning 
of  this  narrative  now  sought  indulgence,  and 
in  1837  he  started  "  The  Gentleman's  Maga- 
zine," a  monthly  publication  of  original  mis- 
cellany. Articles  of  his  own  appeared  in  it 
from  time  to  time,  among  others  a  graceful 
and  appreciative  sketch  of  his  friend,  James 
Wallack.  He  continued  the  editorship  until 
July,  1839,  when  he  associated  Edgar  A.  Poe 
with  him  in  the  control. 

To  those  who  have  paid  any  attention  to  the 
career  of  the  gifted  author  of  "  The  Raven," 
as  depicted  by  various  pens  in  recent  years,  it 
need  scarcely  be  said  that,  though  a  man  of 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON.  IJ 

genius,  he  was  not  without  frailties ;  and  his 
warmest  defenders  will  not  deny  that  his  life 
was  marred  by  many  irregularities  of  conduct. 
He  was  appointed  editor  of  the  magazine  at  a 
fixed  salary,  and  the  arrangement  was  such  as 
to  give  him  leisure  to  contribute  to  other  peri- 
odicals and  to  produce  many  of  his  famous 
tales.  "  Happier  now,"  says  one  of  his  biog- 
raphers,1 "  than  he  had  been  for  years  past,  for 
his  prospects  seemed  assured,  his  work  regular, 
interesting,  and  appreciated,  his  fame  increas- 
ing, he  writes  to  one  friend  that  he  '  has  quite 
overcome  the  dangerous  besetment,'  and  to 
another  that  he  is  '  a  model  of  temperance  and 
other  virtues.'  "  For  nearly  a  year  he  remained 
with  Burton  ;  "  but,"  continues  the  same  biog- 
rapher, "  so  liable  was  he  still  to  sudden  re- 
lapses that  the  actor  was  never  with  confidence 
able  to  leave  the  city.  Returning  on  one  occa- 
sion after  the  regular  day  of  publication,  he 
found  the  number  unfinished,  and  his  editor 
incapable  of  duty.  He  left  remonstrances  to 

1  Henry  Curwen,  "  Sorrow  and  Song."     London,  1875, 


1 8  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 

the  morrow,  prepared  the  '  copy  '  himself,  and 
issued  the  magazine,  and  then  to  his  astonish- 
ment received  a  letter  from  his  assistant,  the 
tone  of  which  may  be  inferred  from  Burton's 
answer :  *  I  am  sorry  you  have  thought  it  nec- 
essary to  send  me  such  a  letter.  Your  troubles 
have  given  a  morbid  tone  to  your  feelings 
which  it  is  your  duty  to  discourage.  I  myself 
have  been  as  severely  handled  by  the  world  as 
you  can  possibly  have  been,  but  my  sufferings 
have  not  tinged  my  mind  with  melancholy, 
nor  jaundiced  my  views  of  society.  You  must 
rouse  your  energies,  and  if  care  assail  you, 
conquer  it.  I  will  gladly  overlook  the  past.  I 
hope  you  will  as  easily  fulfil  your  pledges  for 
the  future.  We  shall  agree  very  well,  though 
I  cannot  permit  the  magazine  to  be  made  a 
vehicle  for  that  sort  of  severity  which  you 
think  is  so  "  successful  with  the  mob."  I  am 
truly  much  less  anxious  about  making  a  month- 
ly "  sensation  "  than  I  am  upon  the  point  of 
fairness.  You  must,  my  dear  sir,  get  rid  of 
your  avowed  ill-feelings  toward  your  brother 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON.  19 

authors.  You  see  I  speak  plainly ;  I  cannot 
do  otherwise  upon  such  a  subject.  You  say 
the  people  love  havoc.  I  think  they  love  jus- 
tice. *  *  *  But  I  wander  from  my  design.  I 
accept  your  proposition  to  re-commence  your 
interrupted  avocations  upon  the  Maga.  Let 
us  meet  as  if  we  had  not  exchanged  letters. 
Use  more  exercise,  write  when  feelings  prompt, 
and  be  assured  of  my  friendship.  You  will 
soon  regain  a  healthy  activity  of  mind,  and 
laugh  at  your  past  vagaries.''  We  think 
nothing  can  be  clearer  than  that  Burton  had 
good  cause  for  fault-finding,  and  that  he  was 
more  than  considerate  and  just  in  his  frank  ex- 
pression of  feeling. 

We  do  not  intend  to  pursue  the  ill-starred 
connection  further.  A  more  glaring  offence 
on  Poe's  part  severed  the  relationship,  and  not 
long  thereafter  the  magazine  was  sold  out  to 
Graham  and  merged  in  his  "  Casket,"  the  consol- 
idation ultimately  to  become  "  Graham's  Mag- 
azine." 

"The  Literary  Souvenir,"  an  annual   pub- 


20  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 

lished  by  Carey  &  Hart,  was  edited  by  Burton  in 
1838  and  1840,  and  its  pages  contained  many  of 
his  entertaining  sketches.  He  also  contributed 
to  the  "  Knickerbocker  Magazine  "  a  series  of 
theatrical  papers  styled  "  The  Actor's  Alloquy." 
Occasional  starring  tours  belong  to  the  chron- 
icle of  these  years,  and  there  lies  before  us  a 
bill  of  the  American  Theatre,  Walnut  Street, 
dated  October  14,  1839,  announcing  "  First 
night  of  the  re-engagement  of  Mr.  Burton," 
and  also  that  "  His  Excellency  Martin  Van 
Buren,  President  of  the  United  States,  will 
honor  the  theatre  with  his  presence."  The 
President  must  have  been  greatly  amused,  for 
not  only  did  he  see  the  comedian  as  Tom  Tape 
and  Peeping  Tom,  but  he  also  saw  him  "  dance 
with  Mrs.  Hunt  the  Minuet  de  la  Cour  and 
Gavotte  de  Vestris."  Burton  was  fairly  well 
known  now  throughout  the  Union — except  in 
the  town  of  Napoleon,  on  the  Mississippi 
River,  where,  if  we  may  believe  Mr.  Davidge, 
he  found  his  Waterloo.  The  engagement  had 
not  been  profitable,  and  his  only  hope  was  by 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON.  21 

personally  drumming  for  his  benefit.  So  he 
deposited  a  goodly  number  of  tickets  with  the 
bartender  at  the  hotel  where  he  was  staying, 
with  a  polite  request  that  he  would  use  his 
best  endeavor  to  get  rid  of  them.  The  benefit 
came  off,  and  the  attendance  was  very  flatter- 
ing. After  the  play  the  comedian  invited  sev- 
eral friends  up  to  the  bar,  and  there  had  the 
satisfaction  of  learning  that  the  man  had  man- 
aged to  dispose  of  all  the  tickets  entrusted  to 
him.  This  was  very  gratifying ;  but  no  offer 
of  settlement  being  made,  he  ventured  to  sug- 
gest that,  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  quitting 
the  town,  he  would  like  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  receiving  the  insignificant  amount  of  seventy- 
ty-five  cents  for  each  piece  of  pasteboard  de- 
posited. Mr.  Davidge  says  it  takes  a  great 
deal  to  astonish  a  barkeeper  in  Napoleon  ;  but 
this  one  was  distanced.  He  surveyed  Burton 
for  a  quarter  of  a  minute,  and  seeing  not  a 
muscle  move  in  the  comedian's  expressive 
countenance,  he  said  :  "  Look  here,  Mr.  Billy 
Burton,  none  of  your  infernal  Northern  tricks 


22  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 

here  ;  it  won't  do,  no  way !  You  told  me  to 
get  rid  of  them  tickets,  and  as  I  had  promised 
I  was  bound  to  go  straight  through  with  it — 
and  by  thunder,  I  was  obliged  to  stand  drinks  to 
every  man  to  take  one  !  "  An  audience  may  be 
uncultured  if  not  lukewarm ;  and  the  unim- 
pressible  community  of  Napoleon  reminds  us 
that  the  "  Antigone  "  of  Sophocles  was  once 
produced  under  Burton's  management,  and, 
on  loud  and  repeated  calls  for  the  author,  the 
comedian  presented  himself  before  the  foot- 
lights and  said:  "Ladies  and  gentlemen,  it 
would  give  me  the  greatest  pleasure  to  intro- 
duce the  author  of  the  play  ;  but,  unfortunate- 
ly, he  has  been  dead  for  more  than  twenty 
centuries,  and  I  shall  have  to  throw  myself 
upon  your  indulgence." 

Burton  made  his  first  appearance  in  New 
York  October  31,  1837,  at  the  old  National 
Theatre  in  Leonard  Street — then  under  the 
management  of  the  elder  Wallack — for  the 
benefit  of  Samuel  Woodworth,  the  poet,  play- 
ing Guy  Goodluck,  in  "  John  Jones  "  ;  and  his 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON.  23 

first  appearance  as  a  star  was  made  at  the  same 
theatre  February  4,  1839,  when  he  played  Billy 
Lackaday,  in  "  Sweethearts  and  Wives,"  and 
Guy  Goodluck.  A  complimentary  benefit  was 
given  to  Mr.  Wallack  in  the  same  year,  when 
Burton  played  Sir  Simon  Slack,  in  "  Spring  and 
Autumn."  The  opera  of  "Amilie  ;  or,  The  Love 
Test  "  was  produced  on  the  same  occasion.  If 
we  mistake  not,  he  was  connected  with  the 
management  when  the  theatre  was  destroyed 
by  fire  not  long  after.  He  also  appeared  at 
Niblo's  Garden  as  a  star  in  this  year,  opening 
June  25th,  and  was  seen  in  a  round  of  parts, 
including  Gregory  Thimblewell,  Euclid  Facile, 
Ignatius  Polyglott,  and  Tobias  Munns,  in  his 
own  farce  of  "Forty  Winks."  He  first  ap- 
peared on  the  Park  stage  June  2,  1840,  playing 
Sir  Timothy  Stilton,  in  "  Patrician  and  Par- 
venu," the  occasion  being  a  complimentary 
benefit  to  Peter  Richings ;  and  in  the  same 
month  acted  at  Niblo's  Garden.  At  his  benefit 
(July  6th)  he  played  Brown,  in  "  Kill  and 
Cure,"  and  Fluid  in  "  The  Water  Party."  The 


24  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 

participation  of  the  Cushman  sisters  in  this 
entertainment  greatly  enhanced  its  interest 
and  attractiveness.  In  this  year  he  fitted  up 
Cooke's  circus-building  in  Chestnut  Street, 
Philadelphia,  calling  it  the  National  Theatre. 
He  gathered  a  fine  company  and  was  very 
prosperous.  Charlotte  and  Susan  Cushman 
appeared  there,  and  the  sterling  comedians 
Henry  and  Thomas  Placide  were  among  the 
force.  The  fairy  piece,  "  The  Naiad  Queen," 
was  there  presented  for  the  first  time  in  the 
United  States,  and  brought  wealth  to  the  man- 
ager's coffers.  A  large  amount  of  his  earnings 
by  this  enterprise  he  invested  in  Nick  Biddle's 
United  States  Bank,  and  in  the  downfall  of 
that  institution  suffered  severely. 

In  1841,  after  a  brief  engagement  at  the 
Providence  theatre,  he  returned  to  New  York, 
and  leased  the  rebuilt  theatre  corner  of  Leo- 
nard and  Church  streets,  where  his  first  appear- 
ance in  New  York  had  been  made  ;  brought  on 
his  Philadelphia  company,  and  there  estab- 
lished himself.  This  was  April  13,  1841,  and 


MR.  BURTON  AS  DR.  OLLAPOD. 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON.  2$ 

his  first  essay  as  manager  in  New  York.  He 
transported  all  the  beautiful  scenery  of  "  The 
Naiad  Queen,"  and  reproduced  the  piece  with 
gratifying  success.  But  a  dread  fatality  seemed 
to  attend  this  temple  of  the  drama.  As,  while 
under  Wallack's  management,  it  was  destroyed 
by  fire,  so  the  same  doom  befell  it  under 
Burton.  In  the  height  of  prosperity  the  build- 
ing was  again  consumed,  and  with  it  the  elab- 
orate and  splendid  scenery  of  "The  Naiad 
Queen."  Of  this  calamity,  F.  C.  Wemyss,  in 
his  " Theatrical  Biography,"  remarks:  "On 
this  occasion  a  magnificent  and  extensive 
wardrobe,  the  property  of  Mr.  Burton,  was 
consumed,  together  with  his  private  wardrobe, 
manuscripts,  books,  and  other  articles  of  con- 
siderable value.  He  was  not  insured  to  the 
amount  of  a  dollar.  The  citizens  of  New  York 
expressed  their  sympathy  with  the  manager; 
and  a  complimentary  benefit  at  the  Park  placed 
a  handsome  sum  at  his  disposal."  Undaunted 
by  a  disaster  which  would  have  utterly  dis- 
couraged most  men,  Burton  again  sought  Phil- 


26  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 

adelphia,  and  after  starring  for  a  brief  season 
leased  the  Chestnut  Street  Theatre  for  a  fresh 
essay.  There  for  a  while  he  continued  with 
good  fortune,  until  better  prospects  invited 
him  to  Arch  Street,  where  at  last  he  located 
with  a  view  to  permanency.  Meeting  now 
with  rich  success,  he  determined  to  extend  his 
sphere  of  operation,  and  added  in  turn  to  his 
lesseeship  the  Front  Street  Theatre,  Baltimore, 
and  the  theatre  in  Washington ;  so  that  in 
1845-6  he  was  guiding  the  destinies  of  three 
dramatic  houses,  distinguished  for  well-chosen 
companies  and  for  the  admirable  manner  in 
which  the  plays  were  mounted  and  cast.  But 
again  the  fiat  of  destiny  was  written  in  words  of 
flame.  The  Washington  theatre,  for  the  first 
time  in  many  years,  was  handsomely  rewarding 
its  manager,  when  one  night,  during  the  per- 
formance, the  scenery  caught  fire,  and  the 
building  was  burnt  to  the  ground.  The  Balti- 
more theatre  was  continued ;  but  the  lion's 
share  of  attention  was  given  to  Arch  Street, 
and  there  for  several  years  Burton  enjoyed  a 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON.  2*J 

flow  of  prosperity ;  his  fame  increasing  in  pub- 
lic estimation  ;  surprising  and  delighting  all  by 
his  wonderful  acting,  and  by  the  knowledge, 
taste,  and  liberality,  with  which  he  catered  for 
his  patrons.  But  New  York  was  in  the  mana- 
ger's thoughts  and  seemed  to  beckon  him 
Northward.  Perhaps  Burton's  prophetic  gaze 
discerned  in  the  great  city  a  field  that  would 
respond  to  careful  tillage,  and  that  the  rapid 
growth  of  the  metropolis  could  not  fail  to  give 
momentum  to  enterprise.  Whatever  the  mo- 
tive spring,  the  step  was  taken,  and  in  1848 
the  building  known  as  Palmo's  Opera-House 
became  Burton's  Theatre. 

In  this  brief  survey  of  fourteen  years,  the  ab- 
sence of  detail  in  many  instances  will  be  par- 
doned, we  hope,  on  a  reflection  of  what  it  may 
suggest.  We  are  aware  of  the  interest  attach- 
ing to  strength  of  companies,  citations  of  casts, 
and  notes  of  special  performance ;  and  in  all 
theatrical  histories  such  details  should  evoke 
the  most  careful  consideration.  The  Philadel- 
phia record,  however,  is  not  always  full  and 


28  WILLIAM  E.  BURTON. 

clear  on  those  points,  as  respects  individual 
careers,  even  in  one  so  active  and  fruitful  as 
our  subject's ;  for,  so  far  as  we  know,  there  is 
no  history  of  the  stage  of  that  city  which  pre- 
tends to  do  for  its  dramatic  life  what  Ireland 
has  done  for  the  New  York  stage — regard- 
ing which  monument  of  painstaking  fidelity, 
William  Winter,  in  the  preface  to  his  recent 
admirable  volume  on  "  The  Jeffersons, "  truly 
says :  "  Every  writer  who  touches  upon  the 
history  of  the  drama  in  America  must  ac- 
knowledge his  obligation  for  guidance  and 
aid  to  the  thorough,  faithful  and  suggestive 
records  made  by  the  veteran  historian,  Joseph 
N.  Ireland."  Yet,  in  depicting  the  career  of 
a  great  actor,  many  things  are  rendered  subor- 
dinate which  in  a  history  of  the  drama  of  any 
given  period  would  receive  due  prominence. 
That  the  career  of  Burton  in  Philadelphia  from 
1834  to  1848  embraced  much  of  its  stage  his- 
tory during  those  years,  will,  of  course,  be  un- 
derstood ;  and  we  shall  be  sorry  if  our  readers, 
at  the  same  time,  fail  to  discern  the  industry, 


WILLIAM  E.  BURTON.  2Q 

sagacity,  courage,  and  varied  powers — with 
which  the  actor,  author,  and  manager,  illustrat- 
ed those  years— suggested  by  this  recital. 

We  now  approach  a  period  within  the  mem- 
ory of  many  persons  now  living.  Some  few 
octogenarians  may  survive  who  can  recall  Bur- 
ton's performances  of  over  forty  years  ago  ;  but 
they  must  be  few  indeed  ;  and  their  recollec- 
tions cannot  be  otherwise  than  dim  and  uncer- 
tain. But  the  achievements  of  Burton  in 
Chambers  Street ;  the  unexampled  popularity 
of  his  theatre ;  the  unequalled  company  he 
gathered  there  ;  the  indisputable  creations  of 
character  that  there  originated ;  the  birth  of  a 
revival  of  Shakespeare,  with  a  felicity  of  con- 
ception that  revealed  the  appreciative  student, 
and  with  a  beauty  and  minuteness  of  appoint- 
ment unprecedented  at  the  time  ; — all  this, 
through  a  decade  of  years,  forms  an  enchanting 
reminiscence  vivid  still  in  the  retrospect  of  num- 
berless New  Yorkers.  It  is  not  surprising  that 
we  of  the  city  of  New  York  forget  that  the 
comedian  so  long  belonged  to  Philadelphia. 


30  WILLIAM  E.  BUKTON. 

So  brilliant  was  his  success  in  Chambers  Street 
that  all  other  theatres  where  he  flourished  seem 
to  be  viewed  by  the  reflected  light  of  that ; 
and  we  think  there  will  be  no  question  that 
there  were  clustered  his  rarest  triumphs  and 
there  blossomed  the  flower  of  his  fame. 


BURTON'S    THEATRE, 

CHAMBERS   STREET. 


"  There  is  the  playhouse  now,  there  must  you  sit." 

— SHAKESPEARE. 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 


1848-1856. 

PALMO'S  Opera-House  was  built  in  1842, 
and,  according  to  Wemyss'  Chronology,  was 
the  sixteenth  theatre  erected  in  New  York.  It 
was  built  by  Ferdinand  Palmo,  and  designed 
for  the  presentation  of  Italian  opera.  To 
Palmo,  it  is  said,  belongs  the  honor  of  having 
first  introduced  that  department  of  music  in 
the  city.  In  1844  ^e  opened  with  "  Lucia  di 
Lammermoor  "  ;  but  the  support  given  to  his 
venture  was  not  generous,  notwithstanding  the 
fact  that  wealth  and  fashion  still  resided  in 
Warren,  Murray,  and  Beekman  streets.  The 
time  apparently  was  not  ripe  ;  the  experiment 
ended  in  financial  ruin  to  Palmo,  and  the  un- 
fortunate man  never  wholly  recovered  from 
the  blow.  The  house  passed  into  divers  hands, 
and  was  the  scene  of  a  variety  of  entertain- 

33 


34  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

ments  for  two  or  three  years  afterward.  The 
writer  remembers  distinctly  going  there  of  an 
afternoon,  when  a  boy,  to  a  circus  entertain- 
ment. The  place  was  at  a  low  ebb  in  point  of 
popularity  and  attraction  when  the  comedian 
fixed  upon  it  as  his  future  professional  home. 
He  rearranged,  fitted  it  up,  and  adorned  it,  and 
called  it  BURTON'S  THEATRE. 

It  had  no  doubt  long  been  a  dream  of  the 
manager  to  attain  as  nearly  as  possible  to  per- 
fection in  the  organization  and  direction  of  a 
first-class  theatre.  His  varied  experience  in 
Philadelphia  and  elsewhere  constantly  sug- 
gested an  administration  composed  of  members 
equally  valuable  in  their  respective  lines,  and 
forming  an  harmonious  whole  under  an  efficient 
executive,  as  the  best  system  of  government 
for  the  growth  and  development  of  dramatic 
art ;  and  perhaps  during  his  reign  in  Chambers 
Street  he  came  as  near  the  realization  of  that 
dream  as  is  permitted  to  human  aspiration.  In 
confirmation  of  the  foregoing,  we  quote  a  pas- 
sage from  William  B.  Wood's  Recollections, 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  35 

where,  writing  in  1854  of  the  evils  of  the  star 
system,  he  says  :  "  Let  me  here  remark,  that  I 
am  happy  to  see  of  late  times — I  mean  within 
the  last  few  years — that  the  pernicious  system 
of  which  I  speak,  by  carrying  itself  fairly  out, 
and  by  so  breaking  up  all  sound  stock  com- 
panies, has  finally  destroyed  itself.  *  *  * 
To  that  intelligent  manager,  Mr.  Burton,  the 
first  credit  is  due.  He  has  been  striving  for  a 
number  of  years  in  New  York,  as  he  had  been 
doing  here  in  Philadelphia,  to  bring  his  theatre 
to  a  proper  system,  based  on  the  principles  of 
common  sense  and  experience.  With  talents 
of  his  own  equalled  by  few  stars,  he  has  pre- 
ferred to  ascertain  whether  the  public  could 
not  be  better  attracted  by  a  good  stock  com- 
pany of  combined  talent,  and  every  New 
Yorker  knows  with  what  excellent  effect  he 
has  labored.  His  success,  I  am  happy  to  learn, 
has  amply  confirmed  his  reputation  for  dra- 
matic judgment." 

We   may  supplement   this  by  a  paragraph 
taken    from    Laurence    Hutton's   entertaining 


36  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

volume  of  "  Plays  and  Players."  Describing  in 
glowing  terms  the  production  of  Buckstone's 
comedy  of  "  Leap  Year,"  at  Burton's,  March  I, 
1850,  Mr.  Hutton  says:  "That  our  readers 
may  fully  comprehend  the  subject  and  period 
of  which  we  write,  it  will  be  well  to  remind 
them,  perhaps,  that  the  art  of  acting  had 
arrived  at  such  a  point  in  Burton's  Theatre, 
that,  to  play  a  comedy  well,  was  not  enough. 
Every  thing  was  so  well  done,  so  perfect  in 
every  respect,  mere  excellence  was  so  much  a 
matter  of  course,  was  so  positive,  on  the 
Chambers  Street  boards,  that  there  was  but 
little  room  for  the  comparative,  and  the 
superlative  itself  was  necessary  to  create  a 
sensation." 

The  Chambers  Street  Theatre  opened  July 
10,  1848,  with  ''Maidens,  Beware";  "Raising 
the  Wind,"  and  "  The  Irish  Dragoon."  These 
were  succeeded  by  "  New  York  in  Slices," 
"  Dan  Keyser  de  Bassoon,"  and  "  Lucy  Did 
Sham  Amour."  The  work  was  slow  at  first, 
but  the  disappearance  of  money  was  rapid. 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  37 

We  have  seen,  however,  that  there  was  no 
limit  to  Burton's  energy  and  perseverance. 
He  played  in  New  York,  Philadelphia,  and 
Baltimore,  week  after  week  ;  managed,  in  con- 
junction with  John  Brougham,  an  engagement 
with  Mr.  W.  C.  Macready  at  Ford's  Theatre, 
Boston,  October,  1848 ;  was  announced,  on 
Macready's  departure,  to  appear  himself ;  but 
the  intention  was  unfulfilled,  and  so  it 
chanced  that  he  never  acted  there  until  the 
last  years  of  his  life.  He  played  for  the 
benefit  of  the  widow  and  family  of  Ed- 
mund Simpson,  at  the  Park  Theatre,  De- 
cember 7,  1848,  in  referring  to  which  event 
Mr.  Ireland  says  :  "  We  insert  the  entire 
bill  to  show  the  forgetfulness  of  self  evinced 
by  the  volunteers,  arid  their  willingness  to 
assume  any  character  to  insure  the  best  re- 
sult, there  being  no  less  than  five  gentlemen 
in  the  cast  who  had  played,  and  might  justly 
have  laid  claim  to  the  principal  character  of 
the  play."  The  play  was  "  The  School  for 
Scandal,"  cast  principally  as  follows  : 


38  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

SIR  PETER  TEAZLE        .        .  Mr.  HENRY  PLACIDE. 
SIR  OLIVER  SURFACE    .         .         "    WM.  E.  BURTON. 
JOSEPH  SURFACE   .        .         .         "    THOMAS  BARRY. 
CHARLES  SURFACE        .         .         "    GEORGE  BARRETT. 
CRABTREE        .        .         .         .         "    W.  R.  BLAKE. 
SIR  BENJAMIN  BACKBITE    .         "    PETER  RICHINGS. 
CARELESS          .        .         .        .         "    C.  M.  WALCOT. 
SIR  HARRY        .        .         .         .         "    H.  HUNT. 

MOSES "    JOHN  POVEY. 

TRIP "    DAWSON. 

LADY  TEAZLE          .         ...  Mrs.  SHAW. 
LADY  SNEERWELL         .        .        "    JOHN  GILBERT. 
MRS.  CANDOUR      .        .        .        "    WINSTANLEY. 

MARIA Miss  MARY  TAYLOR. 

This  deed  of  charity  was  followed  by  others 
for  the  same  object  on  the  part  of  New  York 
managers,  and  among  them  Burton  contributed 
a  night  at  his  own  theatre,  on  the  5th  of  March 
ensuing,  in  which  the  full  strength  of  his  com- 
pany appeared. 

The  burning  of  the  Park  Theatre  in  1848 
left  Burton  without  a  rival.  The  Olympic  was 
of  the  past ;  Forrest  thundered  at  the  Broad- 
way ;  Wallack's  and  Daly's  were  yet  to  be.  It 
was  not  long  before  the  public  discovered  the 
genius  that  presided  in  Chambers  Street,  and 
recognized  the  unusual  excellence  which  char- 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  39 

acterized  the  performances.  The  location  was 
favorable  for  Brooklyn  people,  and  from  first 
to  last  the  theatre  enjoyed  a  monopoly  of  their 
patronage.  "  For  several  years/'  says  Ireland, 
"  Burton's  Theatre  was  the  resort  of  the  most 
intelligent  class  of  pleasure-seekers,  and  there 
beauty,  wit,  and  fashion,  loved  to  congregate, 
without  the  formality  or  etiquette  of  attire 
once  deemed  necessary  at  the  Park."  Its  fame 
was  really  phenomenal.  Leaping  metropolitan 
bounds,  it  spread  to  distant  states  and  neigh- 
borhoods, and  became,  one  might  almost  say, 
a  familiar  and  welcome  contribution  to  the 
social  and  intellectual  communion  of  the  time. 
For  a  stranger  to  come  to  New  York  in  those 
days  and  omit  to  visit  Burton's,  would  imply 
an  obtuseness  so  forlorn,  or  an  indifference  so 
stolid,  that  in  the  one  case  he  would  be  an 
object  of  compassion,  and  in  the  other  a  grave 
offender  of  public  sentiment.  But  in  all  proba- 
bility he  looked  forward  during  his  journey 
city-ward  to  his  evening  in  those  halls  of 
Momus  ;  and  we  may  be  certain  that  the 


40  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

"  Quips,  and  cranks,  and  wanton  wiles, 
Nods,  and  becks,  and  wreathed  smiles  " 

of  that  night  lived  in  his  memory  for  many  a 
long  day. 

It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  this  attrac- 
tion was  almost  wholly  due  to  the  extraordi- 
nary powers  of  Burton  himself.  True,  his 
company  embraced  the  finest  artists  in  their 
several  lines  of  any  stage  in  the  country  ;  and 
it  was  well  known  to  all  lovers  of  refined  drama 
that  the  Chambers  Street  Theatre  was  the 
home  of  English  comedy,  and  that  any  given 
play  could  be  there  produced  with  a  cast  en- 
tirely adequate,  and  with  a  perfection  of  detail 
ensuring  to  the  auditor  an  artistic  delight  and 
a  representation  of  the  highest  class.  But 
there  are  many  who,  while  appreciating  the 
delineation  of  manners  and  character,  seek 
amusement  pure  and  simple,  and  who  believe 
that  good  digestion  waits  on  hearty  laughter. 
To  this  large  constituency  Burton  was  the  ob- 
jective point,  for  his  humor  and  comic  power 
were  a  perennial  fountain  of  mirth.  His  ap- 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  41 

pearance,  either  discovered  when  the  curtain 
rose,  or  entering  from  the  wing,  was  the  signal 
for  a  ripple  of  merriment  all  over  the  house. 
Every  countenance  brightened,  the  dullest 
face  glowed  with  gleeful  expectancy.  No 
actor,  we  believe — unless  possibly  Liston, — 
ever  excelled  Burton  in  humorous  facial  ex- 
pression. Tom  Hood,  in  referring  to  certain 
pastimes  of  a  London  evening,  says  in  his 
felicitous  rhyme  : 

"  Or  in  the  small  Olympic  pit  sit,  split, 
Laughing  at  Liston,  while  you  quiz  his  phiz." 

Read  the  couplet  thus : 

"Or  in  the  Chambers  Street  snug  pit  sit,  split, 
Laughing  at  Burton,  while  you  quiz  his  phiz," 

and  we  have  the  nightly  situation.  It  was  a 
common  circumstance  for  the  theatre  to  receive 
accessions  toward  the  close  of  the  performance, 
the  new-comers  standing  in  line  along  the  walls, 
drawn  thither  by  the  potent  magnet  of  the 
manager  in  the  farce.  Thus  it  was  that,  though 
the  theatre  furnished  constantly  a  rich  feast  of 


42  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

comedy,  and  was  more  widely  known  than  any 
other,  still  more  celebrated  was  the  great  actor 
whose  name  it  bore ;  and  it  was  the  magic  of 
that  name  that  drew  the  people,  and  it  was  he 
whom  the  people  went  to  see.  It  seemed  to 
make  little  difference  what  the  bills  announced  ; 
Burton  would  play, — and  that  was  enough. 

It  was  the  privilege  of  the  writer  of  these 
pages  to  have  free  access  to  the  Chambers 
Street  Theatre,  and  to  know  personally  its 
manager,  and  his  recollections  are  such  as  to 
induce  him  to  believe  that  in  no  better  way  can 
he  perform  his  task  of  completing  Mr.  Burton's 
career  than  by  employing  his  own  knowledge 
and  recording  the  impressions  he  received.  In 
so  doing,  the  opportunity  afforded  for  special 
reference  to  members  of  his  company  will  be 
improved  ;  and  perhaps  our  retrospection  may 
arouse  in  other  breasts  a  remembrance  of  past 
delight. 

Alluding  to  the  comedian's  first  appearance 
in  New  York,  October  31,  1837,  Joseph  N.  Ire- 
land, so  often  quoted,  remarks :  "  The  advent 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  43 

of  Mr.  W.  E.  Burton,  the  most  renowned  come- 
dian of  recent  days,  demands  more  than  a  pass- 
ing notice.  For  nearly  twenty  years  no  other 
actor  monopolized  so  much  of  the  public 
applause,  and  popular  sentiment  universally 
assigned  him  a  position  in  broad  low  comedy 
entirely  unrivalled  on  the  American  stage."  It 
was  a  little  over  three  years  between  his  arrival 
in  America  and  his  New  York  debut;  about 
eleven  between  that  appearance  and  his  lessee- 
ship  in  Chambers  Street ;  and  eleven  more 
remain  to  be  taken  note  of.  Of  these,  eight 
belong  to  Chambers  Street,  two  to  the  uptown 
theatre,  and  one  to  starring  engagements  in 
various  cities — the  last  being  in  Hamilton, 
Canada,  and  abruptly  terminated  by  the  mala- 
dy of  which  he  died. 


The  company  at  Chambers  Street  now  de- 
mands our  attention ;  and  the  wish  to  suitably 
recognize  the  talents,  and  to  chronicle,  however 
simply,  the  triumphs  of  that  famous  array,  has 
constrained  us  to  widen  the  scope  of  our  origi- 


44  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

nal  design,  and  to  extend  somewhat  our  notices 
of  certain  individual  actors.  We  shall  in 
nowise  regret  this  ;  for  in  recalling  past  delight 
it  is  a  pleasure  to  dwell  on  those  who  caused  it ; 
and  we  may,  perchance,  awaken  thereby  a 
happy  thought  of  them  in  other  hearts.  The 
departed  years  are  full  of  memories,  and  the 
turning  of  a  leaf  may  lay  bare  a  volume  of 
reminiscence.  It  forms  no  part  of  our  pur- 
pose, however,  to  follow  individual  careers,  and 
to  trace  their  course  on  other  boards  than  those 
of  the  Chambers  Street  Theatre.  Many  of  them, 
indeed,  after  Burton  removed  uptown,  and  after 
his  death,  continued  their  successes  and  won  re- 
nown in  other  scenes  and  under  other  manage- 
ment ;  and  our  readers  may  feel  that  but  scant 
justice  is  done  many  meritorious  names  famil- 
iar to  the  present  generation,  in  confining  men- 
tion of  them  to  a  period  when  their  talents 
and  capabilities  had  not  ripened  to  that  excel- 
lence which  afterward  gave  them  fame.  But 
we  are  concerned  with  them  only  as  they  figured 
as  members  of  Burton's  company,  and  as  such 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  45 

contributed  richly  to  our  fund  of  memory. 
They  stand  in  the  dramatic  Pantheon  with 
their  great  chief;  and  in  approaching  that 
central  and  dominant  figure  we  pause  to 
bend  delighted  gaze  upon  the  admirable  group 
surrounding  it. 

From  1848  to  1856  the  following  names  were 
numbered  on  the  muster-roll :  Henry  Placide, 
Blake,  Brougham,  Lester,  T.  B.  Johnston,  Bland, 
Jordan,  Barrett,  Dyott,  Fisher,  Thompson,  Hol- 
land, C.  W.  Clarke,  Norton,  Parsloe,  Jr.,  Hoi- 
man,  Charles  Mathews,  Setchell,  Mrs.  Hughes, 
Mrs.  Russell  (now  Mrs.  Hoey),  Mrs.  Skerrett, 
Mrs.  Rea,  Miss  Raymond,  Mrs.  Hough,  Mrs. 
Buckland,  Miss  Weston,  Miss  Devlin,  Miss 
Malvina,  Miss  Agnes  Robertson,  Fanny  Wai- 
lack,  Mary  Taylor,  Miss  Chapman.  This  is 
by  no  means  intended  as  a  complete  enumera- 
tion— "  but  't  is  enough,  't  will  serve/'  Many 
names  have  been  forgotten,  and  some  remem- 
bered but  omitted.  It  may  be  of  interest  to 
note  at  this  point  the  fortunes  that  awaited 
at  least  five  of  the  actresses  above  named — 


46  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

viz. :  Mrs.  Russell,  Miss  Weston,  Miss  Devlin, 
Miss  Malvina,  Miss  Agnes  Robertson. 

Mrs.  Russell,  while  at  Burton's  in  1849,  anc* 
a  great  favorite,  was  married  to  John  Hoey  of 
express  fame,  and  shortly  thereafter  retired 
from  the  stage,  the  manager  doing  the  honors 
at  her  farewell,  and  presenting  her  on  the  oc- 
casion with  a  valuable  testimonial  of  his  regard. 
Long  afterward  Mrs.  Hoey  was  induced  by  the 
elder  Wallack  to  forsake  her  retirement,  and 
for  many  years  was  the  leading  lady  at  his 
theatre,  her  refined  manners,  correct  taste,  and 
exquisite  toilets,  exciting  anew  public  esteem 
and  admiration.  She  quitted  the  stage  and 
returned  to  private  life  in  1865. 

Miss  Lizzie  Weston,  whose  beauty,  dramatic 
aptitude,  and  versatility,  won  nightly  plaudits, 
and  whose  performance  was  not  without  much 
that  was  highly  meritorious,  signalized  a  career 
more  or  less  checkered  by  uniting  her  fortunes 
with  those  of  the  late  Charles  Mathews,  during 
his  starring  tour  in  1858,  and  is  now  the  widow 
of  that  famous  actor. 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  47 

Miss  Malvina,  a  sister  of  Mrs.  Barney  Wil- 
liams, was  a  danseuse  at  Burton's, — for  it  was 
the  fashion  in  the  old  days  to  beguile  the  lazy 
time  between  the  pieces  with  a  Terpsichorean 
interlude ;  and  we  remember  but  one  instance 
of  her  appearance  in  any  other  character,  and 
that  was  a  minor  part  in  the  farce  of  "  A  School 
for  Tigers."  She  became  Mrs.  Wm.  J.  Florence 
in  1853,  and  has  since  shared  her  husband's 
fortunes  and  honors.  Miss  Agnes  Robertson 
made  her  debut  in  New  York  at  the  Chambers 
Street  Theatre,  October  22,  1853,  as  Milly  in 
"  The  Young  Actress,"  and  has  since  been  well 
known  as  the  wife  of  Dion  Boucicault. 

A  more  illustrious  alliance — so  soon  to  end 
in  piteous  sorrow — was  the  portion  of  Mary 
Devlin.  She  was  a  minor  actress  at  Burton's, 
but  a  woman  of  rare  and  lovely  character.  So 
much  so,  that  she  won  the  heart  of  Edwin 
Booth,  and  became  his  wife,  and  the  idol  of 
his  home,  till  death  early  called  her  from  his 
side.  It  was  in  memory  of  this  sweet  and 
gentle  lady,  that  the  poet  Thomas  William  Par- 
sons penned  the  following  exquisite  stanzas : 


48  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

"  What  shall  we  do  now,  Mary  being  dead, 

Or  say,  or  write,  that  shall  express  the  half  ? 
What  can  we  do  but  pillow  that  fair  head 
And  let  the  spring-time  write  her  epitaph  ? 

"  As  it  will  soon  in  snow-drop,  violet, 

Wind-flower,  and  columbine,  and  maiden's  tear, — 
Each  letter  of  that  pretty  alphabet 

That  spells  in  flowers  the  pageant  of  the  year. 

"  She  was  a  maiden  for  a  man  to  love, 

She  was  a  woman  for  a  husband's  life, 
One  that  had  learned  to  value  far  above 

The  name  of  Love  the  sacred  name  of  Wife. 

"  Her  little  life-dream,  rounded  so  with  sleep, 
Had  all  there  is  of  life — except  gray  hairs  : 
Hope,  love,  trust,  passion,  and  devotion  deep, 
And  that  mysterious  tie  a  Mother  bears. 

"  She  hath  fulfilled  her  promise  and  hath  past  : 

Set  her  down  gently  at  the  iron  door  ! 
Eyes  !  look  on  that  loved  image  for  the  last  : 
Now  cover  it  in  earth — her  earth  no  more  !  " 

Let  us  now  summon,  as  first  in  order,  the 
name  that  heads  the  list  of  the  actors  above 
given.  Henry  Placide  enjoyed  in  public  esti- 
mation a  fame  worthy  and  well  deserved.  He 
was  an  actor  of  the  old  school,  and  his  concep- 
tions were  the  fruit  of  appreciative  and  careful 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  49 

study ;  his  acting  was  a  lucid  and  harmonious 
interpretation  of  his  author;  and  his  elocution, 
clear  and  resonant,  was  the  speech  of  a  scholar 
and  a  gentleman.  The  artistic  sense  was  never 
forgotten  in  his  delineations,  and  his  name  on 
the  bills  was  a  guaranty  of  intellectual  pleasure. 
He  was  not  broadly  funny  like  Burton,  or 
Holland ;  but  those  who  remember  his  Sir 
Harcourt  Courtley,  his  Jean  Jacques  Franqois 
Antoine  Hypolite  de  Frisac,  in  "  Paris  and 
London,"  and  his  Clown,  in  Shakespeare's 
"  Twelfth  Night,"  will  not  deny  that  he  was 
the  owner  of  a  rich  vein  of  eccentric  humor, 
and  that  he  worked  his  possession  effectually. 
He  was  an  expert  in  the  Gallic  parts  where  the 
speech  is  a  struggle  between  French  and  Eng- 
lish, and,  indeed,  since  his  departure  they,  too, 
have  vanished  from  the  stage.  But  those  who 
saw  him  as  Haversac,  in  "  The  Old  Guard"  ; 
as  The  Tutor,  in  "  To  Parents  and  Guardians  "  ; 
or  as  Monsieur  Dufard,  in  "  The  First  Night," 
will  bear  witness  to  his  inimitable  manner,  and 
to  his  facile  blending  of  the  grave  and  gay. 


50  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

We  shall  never  forget  how,  in  the  last-named 
character  (Mons.  Dufard],  having  engaged  his 
daughter  for  a  "  first  appearance,"  and  having 
declared  his  own  ability  to  manage  the  drum 
in  the  orchestra  on  the  occasion,  he,  suddenly, 
during  the  mimic  rehearsal,  at  an  allusion  in 
the  text  to  sunrise,  stamped  violently  on  the 
stage  ;  and  to  the  startled  manager's  exclama- 
tion of  "  What 's  that !  "  serenely  replied  :  "  Zat 
ees  ze  cannon  vich  announce  ze  brek  of  day — 
I  play  him  on  ze  big  drum  in  ze  night/'  In 
choleric  old  men  Placide  was  unsurpassed.  All 
the  touches  that  go  toward  the  creation  of  a 
grim,  irascible,  thwarted,  bluff  old  gentleman, 
he  commanded  at  will.  His  Colonel  Hardy, 
in  "  Paul  Pry,"  for  instance,  what  an  example 
was  that !  I  hear  him,  now,  at  the  close  of  the 
comedy,  when  things  had  drifted  to  a  happy 
anchorage — hear  him  saying  in  reply  to  the 
soothing  remark:  "Why,  Colonel,  you  've 
every  thing  your  own  way," — "  Yes,  I  know  I 

have  every  thing  my  own  way ;  but it,  I 

hav'  n't  my  own  way  of  having  it !  "     His  rep- 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  51 

ertory  covered  a  wide  range ;  and  we  retain 
vivid  recollections  of  his  Sir  Peter  Teazle,  his 
Doctor  Ollapod,  and  his  Silky  ;  the  last  in  "  The 
Road  to  Ruin,"  in  which  comedy,  by  the  way, 
we  remember  seeing  Placide,  Blake,  Burton, 
Lester,  Bland,  and  Mrs.  Hughes  ;  truly  a  phe- 
nomenal cast. 

Such,  briefly  sketched,  was  the  actor  who 
constituted  one  of  Burton's  strongest  pillars. 
For  some  years  he  played  at  no  other  theatre 
in  New  York.  He  gave  enjoyment  to  thou- 
sands, and  in  dramatic  annals  his  name  and 
achievements  have  distinguished  and  honorable 
record.  As  one  of  the  many  who  remain  to 
own  their  debt  of  pleasure  and  instruction, 
the  present  writer  pays  this  tribute  to  the 
genius  and  memory  of  Henry  Placide.1 

We  now  summon  another  name  from  the 
famous  corps,  for  the  purpose  of  analysis,  since 

1  "  When  Edwin  Forrest  was  in  Europe  on  a  visit,  he  was 
asked  whom  he  deemed  the  best  American  actor  ;  he  promptly 
and  unequivocally  replied  :  '  Henry  Placide  is  unquestion- 
ably the  best  general  actor  on  the  American  boards,  and  I 
doubt  whether  his  equal  can  be  found  in  England.'  " — HENRY 
DICKINSON  STONE'S  "  Theatrical  Reminiscences." 


52  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

we  should  be  ill  content  with  the  cold  respect 
of  a  passing  glance  at  an  artist  so  celebrated 
as  was  William  Rufus  Blake.  We  can  recall 
no  actor  of  the  past,  and  we  know  of  but  one 
in  the  present,  comparable  with  Blake  in  cer- 
tain lines  of  old  men — certainly  in  the  role  of 
tender  pathos  like  Old  TDornton,  and  in  the 
portrayal  of  a  sweetly  noble  nature  framed  in 
venerable  simplicity,  as  in  Jesse  Rural,  he  had 
no  equal  ;  and  it  is  simply  truth  to  say  that 
with  him  departed  from  the  stage  that  unique, 
all-affecting,  wondrous  embodiment  of  Geoffrey 
Dale,  in  "  The  Last  Man." 

The  characteristics  of  Blake's  power  were  a 
broad  heartiness,  suggestive  sentiment,  and 
eloquent  idealization.  These  traits  informed 
respectively  the  parts  he  essayed,  and  gave  to 
each  in  turn  rare  flow  of  spirit,  richness  of 
color,  and  poetic  fervor.  For  the  verbal  ex- 
pression of  these  salient  elements,  he  pos- 
sessed a  tuneful  voice,  which  rose  or  fell 
as  the  sway  of  feeling  dictated,  and  his  de- 
livery was  singularly  felicitous  in  tone  and 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  53 

emphasis.  Nor  was  he  lacking  in  a  humor  at 
once  subtle  and  delicate,  happily  evinced  in 
his  acting  of  Mr.  Primrose,  in  the  comedietta 
of  "  Bachelors'  Torments." 

Those  who  saw  Blake  at  the  period  of  which 
we  are  writing,  found  it  hard  to  believe  that 
the  Sir  Anthony  Absolute  of  aldermanic  pro- 
portions before  them  was  once  a  slender  young 
man  and  played  light  comedy  !  Yet  so  it  was. 
Very  old  play-goers  will  recollect  the  Chatham 
Garden  theatre,  and  perhaps  some  tenacious 
memory  bears  record  of  having  seen  Blake  there 
in  the  long  ago  ;  for  there  he  first  appeared 
to  a  New  York  audience,  in  1824,  playing 
Frederick,  in  Colman's  "  Poor  Gentleman." 
We  never  saw  him  earlier  than  at  Burton's, 
and  then  with  added  years  had  come  a  ro- 
tundity of  person  which,  however  unobjec- 
tionable in  the  famous  impersonations  of  his 
prime,  was  not,  it  must  be  confessed,  the  ideal 
physique  of  light  comedy  ;  so  his  Frederick 
had  long  departed  and  his  Sir  Robert  Bramble 
had  appeared. 


54  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

The  first  time  we  saw  Blake  was  in  "The 
Road  to  Ruin,"  and  the  impression  he  made 
has  never  been  effaced.  We  were  young,  it  is 
true,  and  sentimental,  and  easily  moved ;  but 
our  heart  tells  us  that  the  effect  would  be  the 
same  could  we  see  the  actor  in  the  play 
to-morrow.  We  have  read  since  of  the  extra- 
ordinary sensation  produced  by  the  great  Mun- 
den  in  the  part  of  Old  Dornton  ;  but  we  have 
an  abiding  faith  that  the  acting  of  the  famous 
Englishman  would  have  been  no  revelation  to 
Blake  ;  and  we  cannot,  indeed,  conceive  of  any 
added  touch  that  would  not  have  impaired, 
rather  than  heightened,  the  latter's  superb 
delineation.  But  Blake's  portrayal  of  the  out- 
raged, doting,  fond,  tender  father,  is,  like  his 
Jesse  Rural,  so  fresh  in  the  memory  of  living 
persons,  that  we  feel  it  to  be  needless  to  des- 
cant upon  its  beauties.  Few  will  forget  the 
years  of  his  last  and  long  engagement  at  Wai- 
lack's — a  fitting  crown  for  a  great  artistic  career. 
Blake  played  many  parts  and  rarely  touched 
but  to  adorn.  Even  his  Malvolio,  had  it  not 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  55 

been  for  the  advent  of  Charles  Fisher  (who  was 
born  in  yellow  stockings  and  cross-gartered), 
would  have  passed  into  history  as  a  carefully 
conceived  and  highly  finished  performance. 
Whenever  we  see  Mr.  John  Gilbert  we  are  re- 
minded of  Blake.  There  is  a  grace  of  action,  a 
courtliness  of  manner,  inseparable  from  Gilbert, 
which  lends  to  all  his  efforts  an  elevating 
charm,  a  feature  Blake  did  not  possess  in  like 
degree.  But  the  two  actors  belonged  to  the 
same  school ;  their  traditions  will  be  much 
akin  ;  and  neither  loses  in  being  spoken  of  in 
the  same  breath,  and  with  the  same  accent  of 
admiration. 

Following  Placide  and  Blake  is  the  name  of 
an  actor  better  remembered  than  either,  and 
whose  death  is  of  comparatively  recent  date. 
We  refer  to  John  Brougham,  who  for  thirty 
years  and  more  was  one  of  New  York's  prime 
favorites,  and  his  name  is  associated  with  many 
of  the  drama's  brightest  and  worthiest  tri- 
umphs. His  inexhaustible  flow  of  spirits,  in 
his  best  days,  pervaded  all  his  acting,  and  in- 


56  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

vested  the  most  unattractive  part  with  an  allur- 
ing charm,  as  many  a  prosaic  spot  in  nature 
becomes  enchanted  land  by  the  music  of  fall- 
ing waters.  Add  to  this  exuberant  vitality  a 
rich  endowment  of  mother  wit  ;  a  bright  intel- 
ligence ;  keen  sympathy  and  appreciation,  and 
rare  personal  magnetism,  and  you  have  before 
you  u  glorious  John,"  whose  hearty  voice  it 
was  always  a  pleasure  to  hear,  and  whose  face, 
beaming  with  humor,  was  always  welcomed 
with  delight. 

Brougham  was  Burton's  stage  manager  in 
1848,  and  his  dramatization  of  "  Dombey  and 
Son  "  was  first  produced  in  that  year.  The 
representation  of  this  play  established  the 
Chambers  Street  Theatre,  drew  attention  to 
the  talents  of  the  stock  company,  and  put 
money  into  Burton's  purse.  If  theatres,  like 
other  things,  succeed  either  by  hook  or  crook, 
as  the  saying  is,  surely  it  was  by  hook  that  the 
manager  won  fame  and  fortune,  for  the  digit  of 
Captain  Cuttle  held  sway  like  a  wizard's  wand. 
The  temptation  to  dwell  here  on  this  renowned 


MR.  BURTON  AS  CAPTAIN  CUTTLE. 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  57 

Burtonian  impersonation  is  hard  to  resist ;  but 
we  must  be  patient  and  bide  our  time. 

Brougham  played  Bunsby  and  Bagstock,  in- 
vesting the  oracular  utterances  of  the  tar,  and 
the  roughness  and  toughness  and  "  devilish  " 
slyness  of  the  Major,  with  a  humor  and  spirit 
all  his  own.  We  laugh  outright  as  we  think 
of  that  scene  where  Cuttle  is  being  rapidly 
reduced  to  agony  and  despair  by  Mrs.  Mac- 
Stinger,  and  is  rescued  therefrom  by  Bunsby, 
who,  with  a  hoarse  "  Avast,  my  lass  ;  avast !  " 
advances  solemnly  on  the  redoubtable  female, 
and  with  a  soothing  gravity  ejects  the  entire 
MacStinger  family,  following  in  the  rear  himself 
—Cuttle  meanwhile  gazing  in  speechless  aston- 
ishment at  the  unexpected  succor,  until  the 
door  is  closed  ;  and  then,  drawing  an  immense 
breath,  and  turning  toward  the  audience  his 
inimitable  face,  exclaims  in  a  tone  of  profound 
respect  and  admiration  :  "  There  's  wisdom  !  " 

It  was  a  great  treat  to  see  Burton  and 
Brougham  together.  The  two  actors  were  so 
ready,  so  full  of  wit,  so  alive  to  each  other's 


58  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

points  and  by-play,  that  any  fanciful  interpola- 
tion of  the  text,  or  humorous  impromptu,  by 
the  one,  was  instantly  responded  to  by  the 
other  ;  and  the  house  was  often  thrown  into 
convulsions  of  merriment  by  these  purely  un- 
premeditated sallies.  This  was  notably  the 
case  in  the  afterpiece  of  "An  Unwarrantable 
Intrusion  " — committed  by  Mr.  Brougham  up- 
on Mr.  Burton — when  in  the  tag  the  comedi- 
ans suddenly  assumed  their  own  persons,  and, 
addressing  each  other  by  their  proper  names, 
engaged  in  a  droll  colloquy  respecting  the 
dilemma  of  having  nothing  to  say  to  conclude 
the  piece  ;  and  each  suggesting  in  turn  some- 
thing that  ought  to  or  might  be  said  to  an  audi- 
ence under  such  peculiar  and  distressing  circum- 
stances,— the  audience  meanwhile  in  a  state  of 
hilarious  excitement,  drinking  in  every  spark- 
ling jest  and  repartee,  and  wishing  the  flow  of 
humor  would  last  forever. 

And  here  we  are  reminded  of  an  incident  not 
down  in  the  bills,  which  furnished  an  audience 
with  an  unlooked-for  and  affecting  episode.  It 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  59 

occurred  during  the  performance  of  Colman's 
comedy  of  "  John  Bull,"  produced  for  the 
benefit  of  a  favorite  actor  ;  Burton  playing  Job 
Thornberry,  and  Brougham,  who  had  volun- 
teered for  the  occasion,  appearing  in  his  capital 
role  of  Dennis  Brulgruddery.  Brougham  was  no 
longer  with  Burton — an  estrangement  existed 
between  them  of  which  the  public  was  aware 
— and  the  conjunction  of  the  two  actors  natu- 
rally awakened  a  lively  interest.  It  chances 
in  the  comedy  that  Mary  Thornberry  finds  a 
refuge  in  her  distress  at  the  "  Red  Cow,"  and 
is  greatly  befriended  by  Dennis.  Her  father, 
discovering  her  there,  and  grateful  for  the  ser- 
vice rendered,  exclaims :  "  You  have  behaved 
like  an  emperor  to  her.  Give  me  your  hand, 
landlord  !  "  Now,  in  the  play,  the  reply  of 
Dennis  is  :  "  Behaved  ! — (refusing  his  hand) — 
Arrah,  now,  get  away  with  your  blarney," — but 
Brougham  paused  for  a  moment  before  Bur- 
ton's outstretched  hand,  and  then,  as  if  yield- 
ing to  an  impulse,  stretched  forth  his,  and  the 
two  actors  stood  with  clasped  hands  amidst  an 


60  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK, 

outburst  of  applause  that  fairly  shook  the 
building.  Of  course  they  were  "  called  out  " 
at  the  close,  and  Brougham,  in  the  course  of 
a  felicitous  little  speech,  remarked — alluding, 
perhaps,  to  the  success  of  his  Lyceum  not 
being  all  he  could  wish — that  he  had  "  lately 
run  off  the  track  "  ;  to  which  Burton,  in  his 
turn,  responded  by  saying  :  "  Mr.  Brougham 
says  he  has  *  run  off  the  track.'  Well,  he  has 
run  off  the  track ;  but  he  has  n't  burst  his  boiler 
yet !  "  At  this  speech  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
audience  knew  no  bounds  ;  and  indeed,  with 
the  exception  of  Mary  Taylor's  farewell  benefit, 
we  can  recall  no  theatrical  occasion  where  more 
genuine  feeling  was  manifested. 

But  to  return  to  "  Dombey  and  Son."  Mrs. 
Brougham  was  the  original  Susan  Nipper,  and 
played  the  part  acceptably  ;  but  all  previous 
Nippers  suffered  eclipse  when  Caroline  Chap- 
man appeared  at  a  later  date,  giving  us  a  Susan 
that  seemed  to  have  sprung  iu\\-Nippered  from 
the  head  of  Boz  himself.  Her  inimitable  act- 
ing and  ring  of  delivery  were  like  a  new  light 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK,  6 1 

turned  on  the  scene.  Her  flow  of  spirit  and 
alert  movement,  her  independent  air  and  saucy 
glance,  her  not-to-be-put-down-under-any-cir- 
cumstances  manner, — all  was  freshness  and 
sparkle,  and  her  presence  was  as  welcome  to  the 
audience  as  a  summer  shower  to  drooping 
wayside  flowers.  Miss  Chapman  was  a  great 
acquisition  to  Burton's,  and  her  bright  indi- 
viduality shone  in  all  her  assumptions.  Her 
line  was  the  stage  soubrette,  a  specialty  which 
she  lifted  entirely  out  of  the  commonplace  and 
informed  it  with  force  and  distinction.  It  is  a 
pleasure  to  place  on  record  the  memory  of 
happy  hours  that  we  owe  to  the  performances 
of  Caroline  Chapman. 

The  original  Toots  was  Oliver  B.  Raymond, 
whom  we  never  saw.  T.  B.  Johnston  was  his 
successor,  and  as  that  admirable  comedian 
never  did  any  thing  unacceptably,  his  Toots 
was  a  memorable  effort;  and  had  Uriah' He ep 
not  followed  we  should  have  been  satisfied 
with  his  Toots;  but  when  "  Copperfield  "  was 
produced  and  Johnston  appeared  as  Heep,  it 


62  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

seemed  as  if  he  was  born  for  that  and  nothing 
else.  Now  that  we  think  of  it,  it  seems  to  us, 
as  we  recall  Johnston,  that  nature  had  peculiar- 
ly fitted  him  for  the  delineation  of  many  of 
Dickens's  characters.  Something  in  his  spare 
figure,  his  grotesqueness  of  demeanor,  his 
whimsical  aspect,  his  odd  manner  of  speech, 
continually  suggested  a  flavor  of  Boz  ;  and 
whether  as  Toots,  or  Heep,  or  Newman  Noggs,  he 
seemed  to  have  glided  into  his  element,  and 
was  en  rapport  with  the  great  novelist. 

We  must  not  forget,  in  writing  of  "  Dombey 
and  Son,"  to  note  how  much  its  attraction  was 
enhanced  by  the  assumption,  in  1849,  °f  tne 
part  of  Edith  by  Mrs.  Josephine  Russell  (the 
present  Mrs.  Hoey).  Laurence  Hutton,  re- 
ferring to  the  event  in  his  volume  of  "  Plays 
and  Players,"  says:  "Up  to  the  time  of 
her  assumption  of  the  role,  Edith,  in  Broug- 
ham's version  of  the  story,  was  comparatively 
a  secondary  part,  and  one  to  which  but 
little  attention  had  been  paid  either  by  per- 
former or  audience.  Mrs.  Russell,  however, 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  63 

by  her  refined  and  elegant  manner,  brought 
Edith  and  herself  into  favor  and  prominence. 
She  made  of  Editk  more  than  Brougham  him- 
self ever  imagined  could  be 'made  ;  and  Edith 
made  her  a  reputation  and  a  success  on  the 
New  York  stage,  which,  until  her  honorable 
and  much-to-be-regretted  retirement,  she  ever 
sustained.1 

We  have  dwelt  thus  on  "  Dombey  and  Son," 
because,  in  the  first  place,  it  gained  for  the 
Chambers  Street  Theatre  an  enduring  public 
regard,  and  was  no  doubt  the  incentive  to  the 
after-production  of  dramatizations  of  Dickens, 
which  gave  us  Burton  in  Micawber,  Squeers, 
Mr.  Bumble,  and  Sam  We  Her ;  and  because  in 
so  celebrating  it  we  pay  a  deserved  tribute  to 
Brougham,  from  whose  fertile  brain  and  ready 
pen  it  came.  We  may  say,  in  this  connection, 
that  not  only  as  actor,  but  as  playwright  also, 
Brougham  achieved  fame  and  honor.  Many 
of  his  comedies  are  well  known  to  the  stage, 

1  The  first  appearance  of  Mrs.  Russell  (whose  maiden  name 
was  Shaw)  in  Chambers  Street  was  made  September  3,  1849. 


64  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

and  are  included  in  the  published  drama  ;  and 
as  a  writer  of  burlesque  we  question  whether 
any  thing  better  or  funnier  than  his  "Po- 
ca-hon-tas  or  the  Gentle  Savage "  has  ever 
been  composed.  Of  one  thing  we  are  certain  : 
an  incarnate  pun-fiend  presided  over  its  creation. 
This  extravaganza,  first  acted  at  Wallack's 
Lyceum,  took  the  town  by  storm,  and  its  bons- 
mots,  local  hits,  and  trenchant  witticisms,  were 
on  the  lips  of  everybody.  In  structure,  idea, 
and  treatment  of  theme,  it  was  ludicrous  to  a 
degree.  Who  does  not  remember  Brougham 
and  the  late  Charles  Walcot  in  their  respective 
parts  of  Poivhattan  and  Captain  Smith  ? 

It  goes  without  saying  that  Brougham's 
Hibernian  delineations  were  perfect  and  to  the 
manner  born.  Many  an  Irish  farce  we  recall, 
during  his  stay  at  Burton's,  to  which  he  gave  a 
new  lease  of  life  ;  and  we  congratulate  our- 
selves that  our  memory  holds  record  of  having 
once  seen  him  as  Sir  Lucius  O' Trigger,  the 
only  cast  in  our  experience  wherein  Sheridan's 
creation  found  a  fitting  representative. 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  65 

We  now  pause  before  an  actor  of  illustrious 
lineage  ;  of  a  name  honored  in  dramatic  annals 
by  encomiums  bestowed  only  upon  abilities  of 
the  highest  order;  an  actor  who,  conscious 
of  his  inheritance  of  genius,  worthily  perpetu- 
ates the  traditions  of  his  house  ;  and  who  is 
now,  despite  the  flight  of  time,  the  most  engag- 
ing and  accomplished  comedian  known  to  the 
American  stage.  Our  readers  will  need  no 
further  introduction  to  Lester  Wallack,  the 
"  Mr.  Lester  "  of  Burton's,  where  first  we  saw 
him  so  many  years  ago.  We  recall  the  even- 
ing when  we  sat  in  the  cosy  parquette,  awaiting 
with  eager  interest  the  rising  of  the  curtain  on 
Charles  Dance's  comic  drama  of  "  Delicate 
Ground,"  in  which  Mr.  Lester  would  make  his 
"  first  appearance  since  his  return  from  Eng- 
land "  (so  the  bill  ran),  in  the  character  of 
Citizen  Sangfroid.  We  say  eager  interest,  for 
we  had  heard  much  of  Mr.  Lester :  that  he 
was  graceful,  handsome,  distingu^ — in  fact, 
splendid  generally ;  and  our  expectancy  was 
akin  to  that  of  the  watching  astronomer — 


66  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

"  When  a  new  planet  swims  into  his  ken." 

At  last  the  tinkle  of  the  bell ;  the  curtain 
rose,  and  enter  Miss  Mary  Taylor,  the  universal 
favorite,  as  Pauline.  Her  soliloquy  closes  with 
the  cue  for  Sangfroid's  entrance,  and  at  the 
words,  "  Hush  !  my  husband  !  "  a  pause  suc- 
ceeded— and  then  from  "  door  left  "  was  pro- 
truded an  elegantly  booted  foot,  and  a  moment 
later  Lester  stood  before  us,  bowing  with  char- 
acteristic ease  and  grace  to  the  demonstrations 
of  welcome.  We  confess  to  an  unconditional 
surrender  on  that  occasion.  The  actual  fact 
was  far  beyond  any  expectation  or  hope.  We 
thought  we  had  never  seen  any  one  quite  so 
splendid ;  and  Sangfroid  was  forthwith  in- 
vested with  the  best  and  noblest  elements  that 
combine  to  elevate  mankind.  We  endeavored 
for  many  days  afterward  to  conform  our  daily 
life  to  the  general  teachings  of  Sangfroid ;  we 
imitated  the  gait  and  manner,  the  calm  aplomb 
of  Sangfroid ;  the  accent  of  Sang-froid  was 
impressed  on  all  our  ordinary  forms  of  speech ; 
our  conversation  on  whatever  topic  was  plenti- 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  67 

fully  sprinkled  with  Sangfroidisms ;  in  short, 
the  whole  tenor  of  our  existence  was  shaped 
and  directed  by  Sangfroid  in  the  person  of  Mr. 
Lester.  We  recovered  in  due  course  from  our 
abject  submission  to  the  spell  of  Sangfroid; 
but  Lester  continued  to  stretch  forth  the 
"  sceptre  of  fascination,"  and  to  his  matchless 
grace  and  finish  we  owe  many  a  delightful 
recollection. 

Then  in  early  manhood,1  the  unrestrained 
alertness  and  vivacity  of  youth  were  his  in 
bounteous  measure.  He  was  in  the  Percy 
Ardent  and  Young  Rapid  period,  and  had  not 
yet  entered  the  corridor  of  years  at  the  far  end 
of  which  lurked  the  blast  figure  of  "  My  Awful 
Dad."  We  remember  him  in  so  many  parts 
which  in  all  likelihood  he  never  will  play  again  ! 
There  was  Rover,  in  "  Wild  Oats,"  that  buskined 
hero,  with  his  captivating  nonchalance  dashed 
with  tragic  fire  ;  his  tender  conversion  of  Lady 
Amaranth — -played,  be  it  said,  with  all  proper 

1  Lester  Wallack's  first  appearance  in  New  York  was  made 
at  the  Broadway  Theatre,  Sept.  27,  1847,  as  Sir  Charles  Cold- 
stream  in  "  Used  Up." 


68  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

demureness  by  Miss  Lizzie  Western  ;  his  tri- 
umph over  Ephraim  Smooth — one  of  Blake's 
instances  of  versatility — in  a  scene  rich  with 
the  spirit  of  frolic  abandon  ;  and  his  humorous 
tilt  with  Sir  George  Thunder — a  belligerent 
sea-dog,  played  by  Burton  as  he  alone  could 
play  it — an  episode  replete  with  comic  power; 
— all  these  contributed  to  a  performance  which 
we  revelled  in  many  and  many  a  night ;  and 
the  memory  of  it,  now  as  we  write,  draws  near 
in  a  succession  of  vivid  pictures.  There  was 
Tangent,  in  "  The  Way  to  Get  Married,"  a 
capita]  part  in  Lester's  hands,  blending  manly 
action  and  debonair  grace  with  that  easy  tran- 
sition to  airy  farcical  expression,  a  favorite  and 
effective  dramatic  habit  of  this  actor,  and  given 
full  play  in  that  memorable  prison  scene  in  the 
comedy,  when,  a  victim  to  adverse  circum- 
stances, and  actually  fettered,  he  makes  felici- 
tous use  of  his  handkerchief  to  hide  his  morti- 
fication and  his  chains  from  the  eyes  of  the 
heroine  during  her  visit  of  sympathy.  Percy 
Ardent,  in  "  The  West  End,"  was  another  of 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  69 

his  characteristic  assumptions  in  those  days ; 
so  also  were  Young  Rapid,  in  "  A  Cure  for  the 
Heartache,"  and  the  Hon.  Tom  Shuffleton,  in 
"  John  Bull "  ;  and,  indeed,  Burton's  frequent 
revivals  of  the  old  comedies  would  have  been  a 
difficult  matter  without  Lester ;  for  in  every 
one  of  them  a  light  comedy  part  is  distinctly 
drawn,  and  unquestionably  the  rarest  among 
all  dramatic  artists  is  the  first-class  light 
comedian. 

Let  any  one  who  thinks  otherwise  endeavor 
to  recall  the  names  of  those  who  have  been  or 
are  famous  in  that  special  line,  and  he  will  be 
surprised  to  find  how  few  he  can  enumerate. 
One  might  suppose  that  all  young  actors  would 
naturally  incline  toward  light  comedy,  and  be 
ambitious  in  that  direction,  since  in  that  sphere 
are  found  the  charm  of  youth,  the  expression 
of  lofty  sentiment,  the  impulse  to  chivalrous 
action,  the  opportunity  for  the  display  of 
graceful  and  manly  bearing, — not  to  mention 
the  lover,  whom,  as  Emerson  declares,  all  the 
world  loves :  and  why  then,  one  may  ask, 


/O  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

should  there  not  be  always  a  plentiful  crop  of 
ripening  light  comedians  ?  Alas,  it  is  not 
enough  to  be  young,  good-looking,  intelligent, 
and  of  virtuous  impulse,  or  even  a  lover. 
Something  more  is  needed,  and  we  conceive 
it  to  be  that  gift  of  nature,  which  study  and 
practice  develop  into  seeming  perfect  art,  but 
which  neither  study  nor  practice  can  create  ; 
the  gift,  let  us  say,  of  perceiving  instinctively 
the  salient  points  of  a  character,  and  going  be- 
yond the  author  in  felicitous  and  suggestive 
expression  of  them.  It  is  easier,  we  think,  to 
compass  tragedy  ;  easier  to  simulate  age ; 
easier  to  be  funny  ;  than  to  be  at  once  airy 
and  gay,  delicately  humorous,  and  engagingly 
manly.  There  are  fewer  light  comedians 
born, — that  is  the  whole  story  ;  and  where  we 
find  one  actor  like  Lester  Wallack,  we  meet 
with  plenty  of  every  other  specialty.  This 
was  made  strikingly  evident  by  Burton's  experi- 
ments in  supplying  Lester's  place,  when  the 
•  latter  joined  his  father  in  the  establishment  of 
Wallack's  Lyceum.  Charles  Fisher  was  im- 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  Jl 

ported,  and  he  for  a  season  essayed  to  succeed 
Lester  ;  but 

"  The  expectancy  and  rose  of  the  fair  state  " 

he  was  not,  and  it  was  not  long  before  the 
fiddle  of  Triplet  and  the  yellow  stockings  of 
Malvolio  emancipated  him  from  the  bondage 
of  light  comedy,  revealed  his  true  powers,  and 
made  us  grateful  to  Burton  for  introducing  to 
New  York  one  of  the  best  eccentric  comedians 
of  the  day.  Dyott,  Norton,  and  even  Holman, 
were  severally  thrown  into  the  breach,  such 
was  the  strait  in  which  the  manager  found 
himself ;  and  it  was  not  until  he  secured  George 
Jordan  that  equilibrium  was  restored  to  the 
company. 

But  to  return.  The  versatility  of  Lester,  so 
conspicuous  throughout  his  career,  was  early 
made  apparent.  We  remember  him  as  Steer- 
forth,  as  Sir  Andrew  Ague  cheek,  and  Captain 
Murphy  Maguire ;  and  though  in  the  last  he 
acted  under  the  shadow  of  Brougham's  rich 
impersonation,  still  he  was  a  delightful  Cap- 
tain.  We  saw  him  as  the  young  lover,  in 


/2  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

"  Paul  Pry  "  ;  as  Frederick,  in  "  The  Poor  Gen- 
tleman," and  many  more ;  besides  those  parts, 
such  as  Young  Mar  low,  Charles  Surface,  and 
Captain  Absolute,  which  need  no  reference, 
since  they  remain  ripe  and  finished  concep- 
tions in  his  present  repertory.  But  of  all  his 
delineations  of  the  past,  that  which  we  linger 
on  with  the  greatest  pleasure,  and  which 
affected  us  most,  was  his  Harry  Dornton,  in 
"  The  Road  to  Ruin."  From  the  moment  he 
appears  beneath  his  father's  window,  importu- 
nate for  admittance,  he  awakens  an  interest 
and  sympathy  that  follow  him  to  the  end. 
The  part  abounds  in  touches  of  Lesterian  hue 
and  flavor:  the  scene  just  mentioned;  that 
wherein  Milford  makes  careless  and  heartless 
allusion  to  Old  Dornton,  and  is  met  by  Harry  s 
eloquent  and  electric  rebuke ;  the  scene  with 
the  Widow  Warren,  and  with  Sophia  ; — all  are 
charming ;  and  we  feel  it  to  be  no  small  tribute 
to  hold  in  memory  Lester's  Harry  side  by  side 
with  the  Old  Dornton  of  Blake. 

We  have  spoken  of  T.  B.  Johnston,  and  re- 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  73 

ferred  to  famous  parts  of  his,  particularly  to 
the  conception  and  execution  of  certain  char- 
acters in  Dickens  which  undeniably  he  made 
his  own  ;  but  we  remember  this  actor  in  other 
and  sundry  enjoyable  delineations,  of  which 
brief  mention  may  be  made.  The  odd  aspect 
of  Johnston,  joined  to  his  whimsical  method, 
so  in  keeping,  as  before  remarked,  with  the 
creations  of  Boz,  peculiarly  fitted  him  for  the 
apt  portrayal  of  those  idiosyncrasies  of  nature 
and  temperament  shadowed  forth  by  characters 
in  many  of  the  old  farces,  in  which  he  often 
appeared,  those  pieces  being  quite  the  fashion 
in  the  days  of  which  we  are  writing.  We  may 
instance  Panels,  in  "  A  School  for  Tigers,"  as 
one  of  these ;  his  part  in  "  A  Blighted  Being  " 
(the  name  quite  forgotten),  was  another ; 
Humphrey  Dobbins,  in  "  The  Poor  Gentleman  " 
(that  not  a  farce,  however),  was  a  capital  por- 
traiture, and  an  amusing  foil  to  Burton's  Sir 
Robert  Bramble;  his  Miss  Smithers,  in  "A' 
Thousand  Milliners,"  where  he  almost  divided 
the  honors  with  Burton  as  Madam  Vander- 


74  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

pants  ; — these  are  a  few  of  the  many  that  come 
floating  back  on  the  tide  of  recollection. 

Bland  was  a  useful  member  of  Burton's 
company,  though  we  think  his  stay  was  brief, 
and  he  contributes  less  to  memory,  as  it 
chances,  than  many  others.  We  never  regard- 
ed him  as  a  great  actor,  though  we  have  read 
of  his  being  thought  the  best  Jacques  of  his 
day,  and  very  fine  as  Sir  Thomas  Clifford.  We 
never  saw  him  in  either,  and  have  no  recollec- 
tion of  "  The  Hunchback"  being  produced  at 
the  Chambers  Street  Theatre.  In  "  The  Honey- 
moon "  Burton  himself  was  the  Jacques. 
We  remember  Bland  very  well  as  Sulky,  in 
"  The  Road  to  Ruin,"  and  as  Ham,  in  "  David 
Copperfield,"  and  both  efforts  were  creditable 
and  contributed  to  the  general  success — his 
share  in  the  exciting  and  touching  scenes  be- 
tween Old  Dornton  and  himself,  as  Sulky,  being 
admirably  done. 

We  are  surprised  that  we  remember  so  little 
interesting  to  record  of  Jordan.  Succeeding 
Lester,  and  deemed  by  many  the  peer  of  that 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  75 

comedian,  one  might  naturally  suppose  that  his 
achievements  would  figure  largely  in  these 
reminiscences ;  but  we  can  recall  very  few  im- 
personations of  which  we  retain  a  vivid  impres- 
sion. We  cannot  concur  with  that  estimate  of 
his  powers  which  ranked  him  with  Lester,  yet 
we  cordially  admit  that  he  came  nearer  than 
any  actor  we  know  of.  He  was  very  hand- 
some, had  a  fine  stage  presence,  and  was  agree- 
able in  all  that  he  did.  We  recall  his  spirited 
performance  of  Rover ;  his  Kitely,  in  Ben 
Jonson's  "Every  Man  in  His  Humor'';  his 
Ferdinand,  in  "  The  Tempest  "  ;  his  Lysander, 
in  "  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  "  ;  and  his 
Captain  Hawksley,  in  "  Still  Waters  Run 
Deep,"  was  superb  and  unequalled.  It  was 
always  a  pleasure  to  see  Jordan,  and  we  owe  to 
his  acting  many  an  hour  of  enjoyment. 

George  Barrett — or,  "  Gentleman  George," 
as  he  was  quite  as  well  known — was  one  of 
Burton's  company  for  a  short  period,  and  with 
his  name  are  associated  many  pleasant  memo- 
ries. Among  them  we  may  mention  with  de- 


76  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK, 

light  his  performance  of  Sir  Andrew  Ague- 
cheek,  a  companion  picture  to  Fisher's  Malvo- 
lio.  His  long  body  and  attenuated  "  make 
up,"  his  piping  voice,  his  fantastic  manner, 
and  absurd  assumption  of  acumen, — all  contrib- 
uted to  an  embodiment  artistic  and  entertain- 
ing in  the  highest  degree.  He  also  played 
Flute,  the  Bellows-Mender,  in  the  revival  of 
"Midsummer  Night's  Dream";  and  it  seems 
but  yesterday,  so  vivid  is  the  remembrance, 
that  we  saw  him  stalking  about  the  stage,  in 
the  guise  of  Ben  Jonson's  bombastic  hero, 
Captain  Bobadil. 

Old  play-goers,  if  they  remember  nothing 
else  of  John  Dyott,  will  recollect  his  ad- 
mirable reading — his  distinct  utterance — his 
fine  emphasis, — qualities  specially  noticeable  in 
his  Shakespearian  assumptions  and  in  charac- 
ters of  a  didactic  cast ;  and  which  made  accepta- 
ble many  a  part  he  undertook,  half  redeeming 
it  from  deficiencies  consequent  upon  natural 
unfitness.  It  was  such  a  pleasure  to  listen  to 
his  delivery  of  the  text,  that  you  overlooked  or 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  JJ 

pardoned  inadequacy  of  treatment  in  other  re- 
spects. Necessarily  his  impersonations  were 
of  very  unequal  merit.  Certain  phases  of  the 
character  assumed  might  be  justly  conceived 
and  well  executed ;  others  manifestly  lacking 
in  the  expression  of  what  was  naturally  sug- 
gested, or  sufficiently  obvious.  We  might  cite 
instances  of  this — Claude  Melnotte  or  Alfred 
Evelyn,  for  example  ;  but  we  jprefer  to  think  of 
him  in  his  most  agreeable  aspects,  which  were 
not  conspicuous  in  light  comedy,  though  that 
role,  under  the  stress  of  exigency,  often  fell  to 
his  lot. 

We  pleasantly  recall  him  as  Lieut.  Worth- 
ington,  in  "  The  Poor  Gentleman  "  ;  as  Pere- 
grine, in  "  John  Bull  "  ;  as  Penruddoch,  in 
"The  Wheel  of  Fortune";  as  Duke  Orsino, 
in  "  Twelfth  Night  " ;  as  Master  Ford,  in 
"  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor  "  ;  and  others 
that  might  be  mentioned.  He  was  a  useful 
member  of  the  Chambers  Street  company, 
acted  always  with  intelligence  and  spirit,  and, 
though  leaving  no  great  name,  deserves  re- 


78  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

membrance  as  a  finished  reader  and  conscien- 
tious artist. 

Charles  Fisher,  well  known  to  the  present 
generation  of  play-goers  as  a  sterling  comedian, 
came  to  Burton's  after  Lester's  withdrawal, 
and,  as  previously  remarked,  succeeded  that 
actor  as  the  exponent  of  light  comedy.  We 
saw  him  in  several  characters  of  that  order ; 
but  it  must  be  confessed  that  his  efforts,  how- 
ever praiseworthy,  were  not  such  as  to  induce 
a  condition  of  complacency  on  the  part  of  the 
management,  with  regard  to  his  capacity  in 
that  direction.  But  the  whirligig  of  time,  as 
Shakespeare  tells  us,  brings  on  its  revenges  ; 
and  in  due  course  Mr.  Fisher  had  his,  and  a 
truly  artistic  one  it  was. 

It  came  about  on  the  second  revival  of 
"  Twelfth  Night,"  and  was  achieved  in  the 
part  of  Malvolio.  In  referring  to  Blake's  as- 
sumption of  this  character,  we  observed,  in 
passing,  that  Fisher  was  born  in  yellow  stock- 
ings and  cross-gartered — meaning  to  express 
the  natural  affinity  for  Shakespeare's  creation 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  79 

existing  in  the  actor ;  and  we  believe  there 
will  be  no  question  among  those  who  remem- 
ber the  impersonation,  as  to  the  subtlety  of 
conception,  the  felicity  of  portrayal,  and  fidelity 
to  detail,  that  so  eminently  distinguished  it. 
From  first  to  last  it  was  a  masterpiece.  His 
manner  when  he  interrupts  the  orgies  of  Sir 
Toby,  the  Clown,  and  Agueckeek,  and  during 
their  maudlin  mockery,  was  full  of  rare  sug- 
gestiveness ;  the  great  scene  in  the  garden, 
where  he  falls  into  the  trap  set  by  Maria,  was 
one  of  the  finest  pieces  of  acting  known  to  our 
stage.  The  audience  were  as  intent  during 
its  progress  as  if  their  own  lives  and  fortunes 
hung  upon  that  enigmatic  letter.  When  it 
comes  home  to  him  at  last  that  he  indeed  is 
the  favored  of  Olivia,  and  he  gives  full  rein  to 
his  fancy  respecting  his  future  exaltation — 
how  he  must  bear  himself,  the  lofty  air  he  will 
assume,  the  consideration  he  will  extort, — he 
was  inimitable.  Already  he  is  clothed  in  yel- 
low stockings  and  cross-gartered ;  and  he 
smiles,  as  he  struts,  the  smile  that  his  de- 


80  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

ceiver  declares  so  becomes  him.  In  the  ensu- 
ing scene  before  Olivia,  where  the  stockings 
and  smiles  play  so  important  a  part,  he  was 
equally  fine ;  and  if  Fisher  had  played  nothing 
else,  his  Malvolio  would  remain  an  interpreta- 
tion of  the  highest  class,  and  a  glory  of  dra- 
matic art.  The  press,  with  one  accord,  united 
in  its  praise ;  and  Mr.  Richard  Grant  White, 
whose  ability  to  judge  of  Shakespearian  de- 
lineations was  well  known,  confessed,  in  the 
columns  of  the  Courier  and  Inquirer  that  he 
did  not  know  where  Mr.  Fisher  learned  to 
play  Malvolio  so  well.  To  say  that  we  enjoyed 
what  we  have  here  endeavored  to  recall,  is  to 
say  but  little.  It  is  one  of  our  most  valued 
memories — and  we  could  not  help  thinking, 
when  the  lovely  Viola  of  the  late  Miss  Neilson 
was  captivating  all  hearts,  what  a  revelation  it 
would  have  been  to  her  admiring  audience  had 
Fisher  presented  his  picture  of  Malvolio. 

In  Burton's  revival  of  the  "  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream,"  Fisher  was  cast  as  Duke  The- 
seus;  and  in  thinking  of  the  part,  that  glorious 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  8 1 

passage  descriptive  of  the  Dukes  hounds  rings 
in  our  ears,  as  spoken  with  glowing  enthusi- 
asm by  the  actor : 

"  My  hounds  are  bred  out  of  the  Spartan  kind, 
So  flew'd,  so  sanded  ;  and  their  heads  are  hung 
With  ears  that  sweep  away  the  morning  dew  ; 
Crook-kneed,  and  dew-lapp'd  like  Thessalian  bulls  ; 
Slow  in  pursuit,  but  match'd  in  mouth  like  bells, 
Each  under  each.     A  cry  more  tunable 
Was  never  holloa'd  to,  nor  cheered  with  horn, 
In  Crete,  in  Sparta,  nor  in  Thessaly  : 
Judge  when  you  hear." 

In  "The  Tempest"  also,  as  Prospero,  Mr. 
Fisher  appeared  to  advantage,  and  swayed  the 
destinies  of  the  Enchanted  Isle  with  dignity 
and  effect.  Triplet,  in  "  Masks  and  Faces," 
was  another  performance  of  Fisher's  that  we 
might  linger  over  in  pleasant  memory  of  its 
humor  and  pathos ;  a  performance,  too,  by  the 
way,  which  brought  to  public  view  a  new 
accomplishment  of  the  actor ;  namely,  his  ac- 
quaintance with  the  violin, — an  advantage  that 
lent  unusual  force  and  brilliancy  to  the  capital 
scene  where  Woffington,  having  played  Lady 
Bountiful  to  the  forlorn  family,  completes  her 


82  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

conquest  by  calling  for  the  fiddle  and  dancing 
"Cover  the  Buckle."  And  with  the  tune  in 
our  ears,  and  a  vision  of  Fisher's  elbow  in  deft 
movement,  we  take  leave  of  the  actor  who 
gave  us  in  the  past  so  many  happy  hours. 

An  artist  of  quite  another  sort  was  Lysander 
Steele  Thompson.  He  was  an  importation  of 
Burton's  ;  and  his  specialty  was  the  Yorkshire- 
man  of  the  stage,  a  line  in  which  he  stood  alone 
and  unapproachable.  Actors  there  have  been 
who  played  the  same  parts,  and  with  a  suf- 
ficient mastery  of  the  dialect  to  pass  muster; 
but,  compared  with  Thompson's,  their  assump- 
tions were  like  artificial  flowers  in  a  painted 
vase  beside  a  clump  of  spring  violets  in  the 
dew  of  morning.  The  semblance  was  there ; 
but  the  delicious  fragrance  of  nature's  breath 
it  was  not  theirs  to  give.  The  native  freshness 
and  out-of-door  breezy  spirit  were  Thompson's 
own  and  born  with  him.  His  engagement  was 
followed  by  the  production  of  all  the  known 
plays  in  which  there  was  a  Zekiel  Homespun,  or 
a  Robin  Roughhead.  We  saw  him  in  them  all : 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  83 

Bob  Tyke,  in  "  The  School  of  Reform  "  ;  Zekiel 
Homespun,  in  "  The  Heir-at-Law  "  ;  Stephen 
Harrowby,  in  "  The  Poor  Gentleman," — and 
until  the  advent  of  Thompson,  the  Harrowby 
family  had  been  omitted  in  Burton's  version  of 
the  comedy ; — Robin  Rough/lead,  in  "A  Plough- 
man Turned  Lord  "  ;  John  Browdie,  in  "  Nicho- 
las Nickleby "  ;  and  Giles,  in  "The  Miller's 
Maid  "  ;  in  which  last,  indeed,  he  acted  under 
an  inspiration  that  almost  laid  claim  to  genius 
itself ;  and  we  see  him  now,  in  that  high-wrought 
scene,  where,  as  the  defender  of  virtue  and 
innocence,  he  towers  in  superb  wrath  above 
the  villain  Gamekeeper,  who  would  tear  from 
her  home  the  person  of  Susan  Fellows. 

It  goes  without  saying  that  his  dialect  was 
perfect,  and  all  the  humorous  phases — the 
touches  of  bewilderment  and  arch  simplicity, 
the  quaint  retort,  the  rollicking  drollery,  the 
innocence  blent  with  audacity, — all  these  traits 
and  characteristics  were  so  many  gifts  of  ex- 
pression summoned  and  employed  at  will.  We 
have  seen  many  tragedians  and  artists  in  melo- 


t 
84  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

drama  ;  many  "  old  men  "  and  light  comedians  ; 
many  funny  men  and  eccentric  actors,  but  we 
have  seen  one  Yorkshireman  only — Lysander 
Thompson. 

He  was  not  without  vanity,  however,  and 
possibly  aspired  to  other  dramatic  walks  than 
his  famous  specialty,  if  we  may  judge  from  a 
little  episode  in  his  career  at  Burton's,  which 
really  makes  too  good  a  story  to  be  lost.  Bur- 
ton had  in  view  the  production  of  "  The  Merry 
Wives,"  in  order  to  act  Falstaff ;  and  in  the 
distribution  Thompson  was  asked  to  make 
choice  of  a  part.  The  story  runs  that,  after 
due  reflection,  Mr.  Thompson  answered  that  on 
the  whole  he  would  prefer  to  play  Sir  John. 
The  manager  regarded  him  for  a  moment  with 
a  glance  of  wonder,  and  then  :  "  I'm  -  -  if 
you  do  ;  one  Falstaff  is  enough  ;  you  must 
choose  again,  Thompson."  And  he  chose  the 
Host  of  the  Garter  Inn,  and  made  a  palpable 
hit. 

The  late  Charles  Mathews  played  a  short  en- 
gagement at  Burton's  ;  and  we  remember  his 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  85 

capital  acting  in  "  Little  Toddlekins  "  and  as 
Young  Rapid ;  but  we  need  not  dwell  upon  an 
actor  whose  stay  was  so  fleeting,  whose  celeb- 
rity was  so  extended,  and  whose  Memoirs  have 
so  recently  been  given  to  the  public. 

George  Holland,  also  departed,  was  for  a 
brief  period  at  the  Chambers  Street  Theatre, 
and  we  recall  our  enjoyment  of  his  broad  fun 
and  facial  extravagance.  We  always  felt,  how- 
ever, that — as  his  line  was  somewhat  akin  to 
Burton's — he  underwent  a  perilous  ordeal  in 
appearing  on  the  same  stage  with  the  great 
actor  whose  genius  was  so  overshadowing. 

Messrs.  Norton,1  Holman,  and    Parsloe,  jr., 

1  An  amusing  experience  may  be  related  apropos  of  Mr. 
Norton.  Not  liking  a  part  in  which  he  was  cast,  he  addressed 
the  following  letter  to  the  manager  : 

"  MR.  BURTON,  My  Dear  Sir  : — It  was  not  necessity  which 
drove  me  to  America.  I  wished  to  travel,  to  see  the  country, 
and,  after  having  satisfied  myself  as  to  whether  it  pleased  me, 
professionally  or  otherwise,  to  arrange  either  to  remain  in  it  or 
return  to  England.  I  consider  myself  greatly  insulted  by 
being  cast  for  the  part  of  Scaley  in  '  Nicholas  Nickleby.  '  To 
offer  such  an  indignity  to  a  gentleman  who  has  held  a  good 
position  in  the  Olympic  Theatre,  London,  under  the  manage- 
ment of  so  great  an  actor  as  Mr.  W.  Farren,  where  he  has 
played  Sjir  John  Melville,  Sir  Lucius  O'Trigger,  Sir  Arthur 
Lascelles,  etc  ,  I  consider  a  great  insult,  and  positively  request 


86  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK, 

were  useful  members  of  the  stock  company, 
limited  in  range  and  ability ;  and  we  mention 
them  as  painstaking  actors,  who  always  did 
their  best,  and  aided  materially  in  the  general 
success  of  the  theatre.  The  name  of  young 
Parsloe  is  included  on  account  of  his  perform- 
ance of  Puck,  which,  owing  to  natural  clever- 
ness and  acrobatic  aptitude,  he  succeeded,  un- 
der Burton's  training,  in  making  exceedingly 
effective  and  full  of  goblin  action. 

And  now  let  us  fancy  ourselves  sitting,  as  of 
old,  in  the  parquette,  the  curtain  having  risen 

you  to  take  me  out  of  the  objectionable  cast,  and  in  future  to 
keep  to  the  promise  you  made  on  engaging 

"Yours,         W.  H.  NORTON." 

Shortly  he  received  the  following  reply  : 

"  Mv  DEAR  MR.  NORTON  : — When  I  engaged  you  I  thought 
you  were  merely  an  actor.  I  find  that  you  are  a  gentleman  on 
your  travels,  and  I  have  to  apologize  for  detaining  you.  If 
you  proceed,  let  me  advise  you  to  visit  Niagara  about  this  time. 
Take  a  tour  through  Canada.  After  that  take  your  way 
through  the  country  generally,  not  forgetting  the  caves  of  Ken- 
tucky, and  in  mid-winter  return  to  Niagara,  a  splendid  sight. 
But  should  you  feel  inclined  to  defer  your  travels,  W.  E.  Bur- 
ton will  be  happy  to  retain  your  services  until  the  close  of  the 
season." 

"  What  could  I  do  or  say  ?  "  said  Norton,  relating  the  in- 
cident. "  I  literally  roared  with  laughter.  He  had  beaten 
me  completely.  We  adjusted  the  difference,  and  I  remained 
with  him  for  two  seasons." 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  87 

on  "  The  Serious  Family."  Sleek  reads  his 
appeal,  and  we  hear  a  voice  saying :  u  Those 
words  give  comfort  to  every  fainting  and 
world-worn  spirit,  good  Mr.  Aminadab  Sleek  " 
— and  we  know  that  Lady  Sowerby  Creamly 
has  spoken,  and  that  Mrs.  Hughes  is  before  us. 
Of  this  estimable  lady  and  admirable  actress, 
much  more  might  be  said  than  present  space 
will  allow.  Almost  as  familiar  a  figure  as  the 
manager  himself,  for  years  she  enacted  those 
characters  which  were  peculiarly  her  forte,  and 
was  identified  with  all  the  success  and  shared 
all  the  fame  of  the  renowned  theatre.  We  can 
recall  no  instance  of  her  having  disappointed 
an  audience  ;  and  though,  in  the  course  of  her 
long  service,  she  may  have  assumed  uncon- 
genial parts,  yet  so  intelligent  was  she,  so 
thorough,  so  conscientious,  that,  in  spite  of  un- 
suitableness,  her  performance  was  always  ac- 
ceptable and  meritorious.  Lady  Duberly,  in 
"  The  Heir-at-Law,"  Mrs.  Malaprop,  in  "  The 
Rivals,"  Lucretia  Me  Tab,  in  "The  Poor  Gen- 
tleman," were  her  accustomed  line,  and  well 


88  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK, 

indeed  she  played  them.  Widow  Warren,  in 
"The  Road  to  Ruin,"  Mrs.  Skewton,  in  "  Dom- 
bey  and  Son,"  Betsy  Trotwood,  in  "  David  Cop- 
perfied,"  were  kindred  felicitous  portraitures  ; 
and  no  one  can  think  of  Burton  as  Sleek  and 
Toodle  without  instantly  associating  Mrs. 
Hughes  as  Lady  Creamly  and  Mrs.  Toodle. 
How  many  times  did  they  play  those  parts  to- 
gether !  In  all  those  lighter  pieces  and  farces 
Burton  made  so  popular  and  famous,  she  was 
his  ally  and  strong  support ;  and  no  history  of 
the  drama  of  that  period  can  be  written  with- 
out conspicuous  mention  of  her  name  ;  nor  can 
the  professional  career  and  triumphs  of  Bur- 
ton be  recounted  without  suggestion  and  re- 
membrance of  Mrs.  Hughes.  Their  profes- 
sional relation  was  perfectly  harmonious,  and 
she  was  with  him  to  the  last.  She  went  with 
him  from  Chambers  Street  to  the  New  The- 
atre, and  when  that  was  given  up  accompanied 
him  on  all  his  starring  tours,  acting  with  him 
when  he  appeared  for  the  last  time  in  New 
York,  and  when  he  acted  for  the  last  time  in 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  89 

his  life  at  Hamilton,  Canada.  In  a  speech 
Burton  once  made,  he  thus  referred  to  their 
theatrical  relations:  **  I  have  been  her  father, 
her  son,  her  uncle,  her  first  husband,  her  second 
husband,  and  her  third  husband,  her  friend,  and 
her  disconsolate  widower,  and  I  have  liked  her 
better  and  better  in  each  relation  !  " 

Even  as  far  back  as  1826  Mrs.  Hughes  was  a 
great  favorite.  H.  B.  Phelps,  in  his  valuable 
work  known  as  "  Players  of  a  Century,"  gives  a 
notice  of  the  press  she  received  for  a  benefit 
night  at  that  period,  which  he  says  is  worth 
preserving  as  a  model :  "  Mrs.  Hughes  takes 
her  benefit  at  the  theatre  to-night.  It  would 
be  an  insult  to  the  generous  enthusiasm  of  her 
numerous  admirers,  to  say  another  word  on  the 
subject." 

As  it  cannot  fail  to  be  of  interest  to  readers 
of  this  volume,  we  copy  from  Mr.  Phelps's  book 
a  reply  to  a  letter  addressed  by  him  to  the 
Hon.  Charles  Hughes,  State  Senator,  asking 
information  respecting  Mrs.  Hughes's  subse- 
quent history. 


go  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

"  DEAR  SIR: — Mrs.  Esther  Hughes,  formerly  Mrs. 
Young,  was  my  mother.  She  died  upon  her  farm, 
three  miles  from  this  village  (Sandy  Hill,  N.  Y.), 
on  the  i5th  of  April,  1867,  at  the  age  of  seventy- 
five,  from  the  effects  of  an  accident  (falling  down 
stairs,  caused  by  vertigo).  She  had  left  the  stage 
before  the  war,  her  last  engagement  being  a  travel- 
ling tour  with  W.  E.  Burton,  in  the  South  and 
North.  She  was  acting  in  Albany  as  Mrs.  Young 
when  the  war  of  1812  was  declared,  and  I  have 
often  heard  her  speak  of  Solomon  Southwick  and 
of  John  O.  Cole,  who  was  a  boy  in  Southwick's 
office.  Her  many  years  of  theatrical  life  speak  for 
themselves." 

We  have  heretofore  alluded  to  the  Miss 
Agnes  Roberston  of  long  ago  ;  and  now  a  mem- 
ory steals  in  upon  us  of  her  debut  at  Burton's, 
and  of  her  enchanting  performance  in  the  pro- 
tean play  of  "  The  Young  Actress."  Of  the 
half  dozen  parts  assumed,  the  Scotch  lassie  and 
the  Irish  lad  still  haunt  us.  The  highland  fling 
of  the  one  and  the  u  Widow  Machree  "  of  the 
other  were  charming  to  see  and  hear ;  and,  in- 
deed, Miss  Robertson  was  charming  altogether. 

We  could  give  a  long  list  of  actors  and  ac- 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  91 

tresses  who  from  year  to  year  were  enrolled  in 
the  Chambers  Street  company,  and  whose  ef- 
forts are  pleasantly  remembered.  We  do  not 
mean  to  slight  them  ;  but  we  must  hasten 
toward  our  appointed  goal.  One  actress,  how- 
ever, a  recognized  favorite  in  New  York  long 
before  her  engagement  with  Burton,  which  ter- 
minated with  her  farewell  to  the  stage,  deserves 
more  than  a  passing  notice,  for  the  pleasure 
she  gave  was  as  pure  and  healthful  as  it  was 
winsome  and  bright.  We  refer  to  Miss  Mary 
Taylor — "  Our  Mary," — better  known  and  es- 
teemed than  any  actress  of  her  day,  except 
Charlotte  Cushman,  that  we  can  recall. 

We  shall  not  dwell  upon  .any  part  of  her 
career,  nor  examine  her  dramatic  capabilities. 
She  never  appeared  without  eliciting  the  warm- 
est of  welcomes  ;  and  when  we  try  to  think  of 
the  many  characters  we  saw  her  in,  we  find  our- 
selves remembering  only  how  sweet  and  good 
she  was.  We  were  present  at  her  farewell 
benefit,  and  during  the  speech  Mr.  Burton  made 
for  her  the  emotion  throughout  the  house,  at 


92  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

the  thought  of  parting,  was  as  sincere  as  it  was 
deep.  She  stood,  visibly  affected,  in  the  midst 
of  her  companions,  and  when  the  curtain  fell 
there  was  a  sigh,  as  if  the  audience  had  lost  a 
friend. 

We  have  endeavored  in  the  foregoing  to  in- 
dicate the  strength  of  the  Chambers  Street 
company,  and  we  think  the  reader  cannot  fail 
to  be  impressed  by  the  exhibit.  The  fact  of 
such  dramatic  portraiture  being  easy,  seems  to 
us  a  striking  proof  of  its  supreme  excellence. 
The  majority  of  them  were  they  living  now 
might  be  comedy  stars.  When  we  have  Jeffer- 
son, Raymond,  Fawcett  Rowe,  Stuart  Rob- 
son,  and  Florence,  starring  about  the  country, 
playing  their  one  part  hundreds  of  nights, 
what  shall  we  think  of  Burton,  Placide,  Blake, 
Brougham,  Lester,  Johnston,  and  the  rest,  ap- 
pearing together  nightly  in  characters  of  varied 
but  equal  dramatic  power?  There  has  been  a 
great  change  since  then.  The  name  of  the 
places  of  amusement  now  is  legion,  and  one 
bright  star  in  the  heaven  of  scenic  splendor 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  93 

consoles  the  public  for  the  loss  of  a  concentra- 
tion of  wit  and  genius.  As  we  recall  for  a  mo- 
ment all  that  bright  array,  we  are  taken  back 
through  the  maze  of  distance,  and  old  familiar 
forms  arise  ;  we  see  the  glimmer  of  accustomed 
footlights ;  the  scene  is  alive  with  well-known 
faces ;  we  even  hear  voices  that  we  know ;  we 
join  in  the  old-time  plaudits — and  forget  how 
many  years  have  rolled  between !  There  is  no 
retrospection  without  its  tinge  of  sadness. 
"  Never  to  return "  is  the  refrain  of  human 
memory.  How  beautifully  Holmes  expresses 
it  in  "  The  Last  Leaf  "  : 

"  The  mossy  marbles  rest 
On  the  lips  that  he  has  pressed, 

In  their  bloom  ; 

And  the  names  he  loved  to  hear, 
Have  been  carved  for  many  a  year 

On  the  tomb." 

The  years  of  the  Chambers  Street  Theatre 
were  fruitful  in  dramatic  events.  We  have  al- 
ready mentioned  "  Dombey  and  Son,"  in  1848  ; 
and  that  signal  triumph  was  followed  by 
"  David  Copperfield,"  "  Oliver  Twist,"  "  Nicho- 


94  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

las  Nickleby,"  and  "The  Pickwickians."  The 
immortal  Toodles  was  first  seen  October  2, 
1848,  and  an  account  of  that  performance  will 
be  found  in  our  Recollections.  It  became 
later  the  custom  of  the  management  to  present 
"  The  Serious  Family"  and  "The  Toodles" 
every  Tuesday  and  Friday  in  each  week,  so 
great  was  the  popularity  of  those  pieces. 
People  came  from  all  parts  of  the  country  to 
see  them  ;  parents  brought  their  families  and 
relatives  ;  and  one  middle-aged  couple,  a  hus- 
band and  wife,  never  failed,  for  successive 
seasons,  to  occupy  the  same  seats  at  every  rep- 
resentation. All  the  old  comedies  were  given 
in  due  course,  with  that  perfection  of  cast  to 
which  we  have  alluded,  and  those  pieces  made 
famous  by  Burton's  acting — such  as  "The 
Breach  of  Promise,"  "Charles  XII.,"  "Hap- 
piest Day  of  my  Life,"  "  Paul  Pry,"  "  Family 
Jars,"  "  Soldier's  Daughter,"  "  Charles  II.," 
"  How  to  Make  Home  Happy,"  etc.,  (and 
which  now  seem  for  ever  lost,) — were  a  con- 
stant source  of  joyous  pleasure.  The  wisdom 


MR.  BURTON  AS  TIMOTHY  TOODLE. 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  95 

and  good  judgment  of  the  manager  were  con- 
spicuous in  the  nightly  programmes,  and  it 
may  here  be  said  that  no  theatrical  caterer 
ever  excelled  Burton  in  an  acute  perception 
of  what  was  needful  to  meet  the  public  taste, 
and  in  providing  the  requisite  entertainment. 
To  wide  experience  he  added  intuitive  appreci- 
ation of  stage  effect,  and  his  extensive  knowl- 
edge of  the  drama  was  seen  in  the  disciplining 
of  his  forces  and  in  his  sagacious  distributions. 
It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  as  manager  as 
well  as  actor  Burton  shone  in  the  prosperity 
and  fame  of  his  theatre  ;  and  it  will  not  be 
when  now  we  touch  on  the  Shakespearian  re- 
vivals that  lent  such  beauty,  grace,  and  dignity 
to  his  stage,  and  revealed  the  manager  in  the 
gracious  aspect  of  a  profound  and  reverent 
student  of  the  mighty  dramatist.  These  re- 
vivals were  the  crowning  triumphs  of  Burton's 
management.  The  production  of  "  A  Mid- 
summer Night's  Dream,"  "  Twelfth  Night," 
"The  Tempest,"  "  Winter's  Tale,"  "  The 
Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  marked  an  era  in 


g6  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

theatrical  representation,  for  up  to  that  time 
no  attempt  had  been  made  so  ambitious  ;  and 
the  success  that  attended  the  enterprise  was  in 
all  respects  richly  deserved.  "  A  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream,"  in  particular,  won  universal  ad- 
miration. The  fairy  portion  was  so  beautiful ; 
the  play  before  the  duke  so  capital ;  that  Shakes- 
peare's creation  acted  upon  the  public  like  a 
revelation,  and  heart  and  mind  felt  the  glow  of 
a  new  sensation.  The  notices  of  the  press  were 
so  unqualified  in  their  praise  of  "  A  Mid- 
summer Night's  Dream,"  that  they  were 
gathered  and  issued  in  a  pamphlet  as  a  tribute 
to  the  achievement.  The  effect  of  the  suc- 
ceeding revivals  was  similar  in  kind,  and  the 
people  marvelled  at  the  resources  of  a  manage- 
ment that  on  so  limited  a  stage  could  produce 
such  wonderful  results.  And  with  these  plays 
of  Shakespeare  came  the  impersonations  of 
Nick  Bottom,  Sir  Toby  Belch,  Caliban,  Autoly- 
cus,  and  Falstaff—nzvz*  to  be  forgotten  by 
those  who  witnessed  them,  and  of  which  a 
more  extended  review  is  given  in  our  Recallec- 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  97 

tions.  It  only  needed  Shakespeare  to  round 
the  glory  of  Chambers  Street ;  after  that  there 
were  no  more  worlds  to  conquer. 

Following  the  years,  we  find  a  record  of  "As 
You  Like  It,"  produced  for  the  benefit  of  the 
American  Dramatic  Fund  at  the  Astor  Place 
Opera-House,  January  8,  1850,  in  which  Burton 
appeared  as  Touchstone,  with  a  cast  including 
Hamblin,  Bland,  Jordan,  Chippendale,  Chap- 
man, Miss  Cushman,  Mrs.  Abbott,  Mrs.  Walcott, 
and  Mrs.  J.  Gilbert.  In  the  same  year  he 
played  a  short  engagement  at  the  Chatham 
Theatre,  and  also  essayed  to  revive  the  old 
Olympic ;  but  the  division  of  attraction  was  of 
brief  duration.  His  home  was  in  Chambers 
Street,  and  there^  to  borrow  from  Lord  Tenny- 
son, the  banner  of  Burton  blew.  The  usual  even 
tenor  of  the  theatre  was  varied  by  new  acces- 
sions to  the  company,  and  by  first  appearances, 
and  other  interesting  events.  The  present 
Miss  Maggie  Mitchell  appeared  June  2,  1851, 
as  Julia,  in  "The  Soldier's  Daughter";  but  we 
cannot  say  positively  that  the  occasion  was 


98  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

her  stage  d£but.  May  3,  1852,  was  the  farewell 
benefit  of  Mary  Taylor,  to  which  reference  has 
already  been  made.  September  6th  of  the 
same  year  was  the  date  of  the  "Centenary 
Festival  of  the  Introduction  of  the  Drama  into 
America,"  at  Castle  Garden,  and  we  find  Burton 
figuring  in  the  elaborate  and  attractive  pro- 
gramme as  Launcelot  Gobbo,  in  "  The  Merchant 
of  Venice."  Miss  Agnes  Robertson  made  her 
New  York  debut  October  22,  1853,  and  No- 
vember 23d  of  the  same  year  witnessed  the 
production  of  "  The  Fox  Hunt,"  an  original 
comedy  by  Dion  Boucicault,  in  which  Burton 
appeared  as  William  Link.  In  1854,  that  long 
baronet,  Sir  William  Don,  entered  upon  the 
scene,  and  in  the  same  year  (December  i8th)  a 
benefit  to  Morris  Barnett  occurred,  on  which 
occasion  "  The  Serious  Family "  was  given 
with  all  the  honors.  Mr.  H.  A.  rerry  made 
his  debut  in  1856,  playing  Gossamer,  in  "  Laugh 
When  You  Can,"  and  that  actor  was  also  seen 
as  LeonteS)  in  "Winter's  Tale." 

Every  summer  for  several  years,  during  the 


BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK.  99 

recess  at  Chambers  Street,  Burton  played  en- 
gagements at  Niblo's  with  a  selection  from  his 
company,  and  was  seen  at  that  resort  in  a  round 
of  his  favorite  characters.  This  was  a  great 
boon  to  strangers  visiting  the  city,  and  to  those 
whose  circumstances  kept  them  in  town.  It 
was  some  consolation  to  be  moved  to  mirth, 
and  there  never  was  any  disaffection  in  Burton's 
summer  constituency.  But  the  theatrical  tide 
was  setting  uptown,  and  the  rapid  growth  of 
the  city  counselled  a  removal  to  more  available 
neighborhoods ;  and  so,  following  the  current, 
the  manager  bid  farewell  to  the  scene  of  so 
many  triumphs,  and  leased  the  building  origi- 
nally known  as  Tripler  Hall,  calling  it  the 
Metropolitan,  or,  as  stated  by  Ireland,  "  Bur- 
ton's New  Theatre,"  where  he  opened  Septem- 
ber 8,  1856,  with  "  The  Rivals." 

The  Chambers  Street  Theatre  was  opened 
July  10,  1848,  and  was  closed  September  6, 
1856.  The  eight  years  of  its  existence  are 
replete  with  fascinating  dramatic  history,  and 
are  a  copious  and  important  contribution  to 


100  BURTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 

the  annals  of  the  stage.  It  was  the  school  of 
many  an  actor  who  rose  to  fame,  and  the  most 
famous  actors  of  the  time  were  seen  upon  its 
boards.  It  was  the  birthplace  of  plays  and 
characters  never  excelled  in  their  effect  upon 
an  audience,  and  its  record  is  graced  by  a  noble 
and  poetic  celebration  of  Shakespeare's  im- 
mortal works.  And  who  shall  say  how  many 
hearts  were  lightened,  and  spirits  cheered,  by 
the  good  genius  of  mirth  that  presided  there? 


1856-1860. 

It  goes  without  saying  that  the  New  Theatre, 
to  those  who  had  been  accustomed  to  the  cosi- 
ness of  Chambers  Street,  was  not  Burton  s. 
The  home  feeling  so  peculiar  to  the  other 
house  could  not  readily  be  reproduced  in  the 
spacious  auditorium  of  the  Metropolitan.  The 
far-reaching  stage  seemed  alien  and  unreal,  and 
the  lofty  walls  were  cold  and  unfamiliar.  There 
were  changes  in  the  company,  too ;  old  favor- 
ites were  missing,  and  a  kindred  interest  was 


BURTON  IN  NEW    YORK.  '    16 1  ' 


not  awakened  by  new-comers.  But  the  hiaha- 
ger  was  there,  and  with  wonted  energy  began 
the  campaign.  The  first  season  was  prosperous, 
and  many  of  the  well-known  Chambers  Street 
pieces  were  revived  and  given  with  effect. 
Daniel  Setchell  made  his  appearance  Septem- 
ber 25,  1856,  and  grew  rapidly  in  public  favor. 
This  comedian  at  a  later  date  essayed  the  part 
of  Aminadab  Sleek ;  but,  as  Ireland  observes, 
"  Burton's  Sleek  alone  filled  the  public  mind," 
and  the  effort  was  not  encouraged.  The  Irish 
comedian,  John  Collins,  was  seen  about  this 
time,  and  in  November  Dion  Boucicault  and 
wife  opened  an  engagement.  January  13, 
1857,  Burton  played  Dogberry  for  the  first  time 
in  New  York,  and  the  same  year  (May  I4th) 
Edwin  Booth  appeared  at  the  New  Theatre 
as  Richard  III.  It  was  in  this  year  (October) 
that  Burton  was  seen  in  Albany  for  the  first 
time,  playing  a  round  of  his  famous  parts ;  and 
it  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  present  Joe 
Jefferson,  then  at  Laura  Keene's,  "  during  the 
absence  of  Burton,"  to  quote  Ireland  again, 


'  102  BURTON  IN  NEW    YORK. 


u  w'a's  recognized  as  the  best  low  comedian 
in  town."  Burton  also  appeared  in  Boston  for 
the  first  time  in  1857,  opening  in  Captain 
Cuttle.  His  reception  was  so  extraordinary  in 
warmth  and  enthusiasm  that  he  lost  control  of 
himself  and  could  not  speak  for  several  min- 
utes. This  engagement  was  at  the  Boston 
Theatre,  and  every  night  the  house  was 
crammed.  He  visited  Boston  again  in  1858, 
and  with  the  same  gratifying  success. 

It  is  not  impossible  that  these  starring  tours 
suggested  to  Burton  a  new  and  prosperous  field 
of  activity,  and  perhaps  some  physical  symp- 
tom dictated  relief  from  the  strain  and  respon- 
sibility of  management.  From  whatever  cause, 
after  another  season  of  varying  fortune,  the 
Metropolitan  was  given  up  (1858),  and  he  com- 
menced a  starring  tour  with  the  highest  suc- 
cess, "  his  name  and  fame,"  says  Ireland, 
"  being  familiar  in  every  quarter  of  the  Union, 
and  more  surely  attractive  than  any  other 
theatrical  magnet  that  could  be  presented." 

In  conjunction  with  Mrs,  Hughes  and  a  few 


MECHANICS'  HALL 


SHOUTS  OF  LAUGHTER  MB  APPLAUSE! 

Friday,  Dec.  I  (»i  li. 

LAST    OSnO-HT    Or.  THE 

GREATEST  COMEDIM  OF  THE  AGE, 


BURTON! 

ty    Acknowledged  in  England  and  America  UNEQUALLED  BOTH  AS  ACTOR  AND 
Ojl  MANAGER.     He  will  be  aided  by  the  celebrated  representative  of  Matrons, 


ENTIRE    CORPS    DRAMATIQUE 

From  the  Royal  Lyceum,  Toronto,  comprising  THIRTEEN  POPULAR  ARTISTES. 


The  Engagement  ia  limited  to  '."he  time  announced,  and  notwithstanding 

the  enormous  expense  attending  it,  the  following  LIBERAL  PRICE 

OF  ADMISSION  will  enable  the  public  to  witness  a  Performance 


Not  Equalled  in  the  Province  or  the  States. 

Admission,  -  -  -  50  Cents. 

.No  extra  charge  for  reserved  seats,  which  can  be  secured  at  Nordheimers'  Music  Store. 

Doors  open  at  7  ;     Curtain  rises  at  a  quarter  to  8. 


Friday  Evening,  Dec.  16th,  1859, 

The  Performance  will  commence  with  the  Comedy,  in  3  Acts,  by  MORRIS  BAKNKTT,  Esq., 
entitled, 

The  Serious 


BURTON  IN  NEW    YORK.  103 

members  of  his  former  company,  he  opened  an 
engagement  at  Niblo's,  July  4,  1859,  playing  to 
crowded  houses.  His  last  appearance  in  New 
York  was  at  the  same  theatre,  on  the  occasion 
of  his  benefit,  October  15,  1859,  Paying  Toodle 
in  the  afternoon,  and  Mr.  Sudden,  Toby  Tramp, 
and  Micawber  in  the  evening,  supported  by 
Mrs.  Hughes  as  Mrs.  Toodle,  Mrs.  Trapper, 
and  Betsy  Trotwood.  "  On  the  day  and  even- 
ing of  his  benefit,"  says  Ireland,  "  more  than 
six  hundred  persons  who  had  paid  for  tickets 
received  their  money  back  from  the  box-office, 
not  being  able  to  obtain  admission." 

On  Saturday,  December  3,  1859,  Mr.  Burton 
started  for  Hamilton,  Canada,  to  fulfil  an 
engagement  there  and  at  Toronto.  A  terrible 
snow-storm  was  met  on  the  way ;  the  train  was 
blocked  ;  and  the  delay  and  discomfort  conse- 
quent were  almost  unendurable.  While  re- 
covering from  the  exposure  and  fatigue,  Mr. 
Burton  wrote  the  following  letter  to  his  chil- 
dren, and  we  are  kindly  permitted  to  make  use 
of  it  in  this  volume.  Jt  will  be  read  with  interest, 


104  LETTER  FROM  CANADA. 

not  only  for  its  feeling,  but  for  its  graphic 
vigor  of  narration  and  humorous  spirit.  And 
we  believe  it  was  the  last  letter  he  ever 
wrote. 

HAMILTON,  CANADA  ; 
Sunday,  December  4,  1859. 

MY  DARLING  CHILDREN  : 

Here  I  am,  in  this  provincial  city  of  the  West- 
ern wilderness,  snowed  up,  500  miles  away  from 
my  dear  home  and  my  precious  treasures.  Such 
a  day  and  night  as  we  had  yesterday  I  hope 
never  to  go  through  again.  You  remember  how 
warm  it  was  on  Friday  ?  positively  hot  ;  and  on 
the  next  morning  the  weather  was  cold  as  New 
Year's,  but  clear  and  brisk,  and  the  icy  tone  of  the 
atmosphere  seemed  to  agree  with  me.  We  reached 
Albany  in  good  order,  and  started  at  twelve  on  the 
long  trip  to  the  Suspension  Bridge,  over  300  miles, 
with  a  light  fall  of  snow,  blown  about  in  every  di- 
rection by  a  very  low  sort  of  a  high  wind.  As 
we  got  on  our  way  we  found  the  snow  getting 
deeper,  and  the  flats  of  the  Mohawk  River  cov- 
ered with  ice.  We  dined  at  Utica — a  pretty  fair 
meal,  with  cold  plates  and  Dutch  waiters,  who 
looked  cold  too.  When  we  changed  cars  at  Roches- 
ter the  wind  blew  ferociously,  and  the  snow  fell 
heavily,  so  much  so  that  some  fears  were  expressed 


LETTER  FROM  CANADA.  1 05 

that  a  drift  might  form  on  some  part  of  the  road 
and  prevent  our  progress  for  a  while.  At  the  Sus- 
pension Bridge,  at  half-past  twelve  in  the  night,  I 
had  to  get  out  of  the  car  and  wade  ankle  deep  in 
snow  to  the  open  road  beside  the  baggage-car,  and 
pick  out  and  give  checks  for  our  wagon-load  of 
trunks,  seeing  them  safely  deposited  in  another  car 
for  transportation  into  Canada.  I  thought  this  was 
a  hard  job,  but  it  was  nothing  to  what  I  had  to  do 
in  Canada,  and  really  a  pleasant  little  episode  com- 
pared with  my  doings  hereafter.  We  crossed  the 
Suspension  Bridge  within  sight  of  the  Falls  of 
Niagara,  but  we  saw  them  not.  The  wind  howled 
as  we  passed  over  that  fearful  gulf,  and  drowned 
the  roaring  of  the  Falls  and  the  rumbling  of  the 
rapids  as  they  boiled  along  some  170  feet  below  us. 
I  confess  that  I  rejoiced  in  reaching  terra  firma, 
even  on  the  cold,  inhospitable  land  of  Canada. 
Well,  we  thought  we  were  snugly  housed  for  the 
balance  of  our  journey,  some  forty-four  miles  to 
Hamilton,  where  we  intended  to  rest  for  the  night 
(at  two  in  the  morning)  and  pass  a  cheerful  Canadian 
Sunday  in  our  own  rooms  looking  at  the  snow, 
when  we  were  roused  from  our  seats  :  "  Change 
cars  and  re-check  your  baggage."  Out  we  turned, 
bundles,  bags,  shawls,  top-coat,  brandy  bottle, 
cough  mixture,  papers,  books,  and  growls,  leaving 
behind  my  old  travelling  cap,  which  I  have  had  for 


106  LETTER  FROM  CANADA. 

years,  and  is  now  gone  for  ever.  When  I  got  out  I 
had  to  jump  into  a  bed  of  snow  up  to  my  knees, 
wade  a  quarter  of  a  mile  through  the  unbroken 
whiteness  to  a  stand  of  cars  inhumanly  situated  far 
from  the  shelter  of  the  d6p6t  or  the  lee  of  any 
building  whatever.  There,  in  that  snow,  without 
any  feeling  in  my  feet,  the  wild  wind  whistling  no 
end  of  Verdi  overtures  with  ophicleide  accompani- 
ment in  the  snort  of  various  engines,  I  had  to  select 
my  nine  packages,  see  them  weighed,  have  them 
checked,  wait  while  the  numbers  of  the  checks  were 
written  down,  copied  off  for  me,  and  a  receipt  writ- 
ten for  the  payment  imposed  on  me  for  extra  bag- 
gage. If  I  had  not  been  so  miserably  perished 
with  cold,  I  could  have  felt  some  pity  for  the  poor 
officials  who  had  to  do  all  this,  not  only  for  me,  but 
for  some  twenty  others,  and  in  the  open  air  too. 
But  it  seemed  that  I  had  all  the  baggage  in  the  car. 
"  Who  owns  57,467  ? "  "I  do."  "  Why,  you  have 
baggage  enough  for  a  dozen."  And  it  was  so.  The 
nine  boxes  looked  like  ninety  in  the  confused  at- 
mosphere of  steam  and  drifting  snow.  "  That  's 
all  right,  sir."  "  Then  why  don't  you  put  the 
trunks  in  the  baggage  car  ?  "  "  So  we  will  when 
they  have  passed  the  customs  "  !!!!!!! 

Yes,  my  darlings,  at  that  hour,  past  midnight,  in 
the  open  snow-storm,  with  a  wind  that  killed  old 
Cuttle's  "  What  blew  each  indiwiddiwal  hair  from 


LETTER  FROM  CANADA.  IO/ 

off  yer  *ed,"  in  a  blinding  drift  of  frozen  crystals 
biting  each  feature  and  driving  their  minute  but 
piercing  angles  into  every  pore,  I  had  to  wait  the 
presence  and  the  pleasure  of  Victoria's  excisemen, 
to  say  whether  my  baggage  might  or  might  not  pass 
duty  free  into  her  infernal  dominions.  I  had  one 
cheerful  and  pleasant  thought  that  filled  my  bosom 
with  religious  delight  while  I  waited.  I  remembered 
playing  Harrop  in  the  drama  of  "  The  Innkeeper's 
Daughter," — he  is  an  old  smuggler,  and  shoots  the 
exciseman.  I  remembered  that  when  I  fired  the 
pistol  and  the  victim  dropped,  I  exclaimed  "  He  's 
done  for!  "  and  the  audience  laughed  and  applauded ! 
Yes,  the  discriminating  public  applauded  me  for 
killing  that  exciseman  !  Oh,  was  it  to  do  again  ! 
How  well  I  could  kill  that  Canadian  gauger  here,  in 
the  snow-storm,  at  midnight,  on  the  banks  of  the 
mad  Niagara  !  Don't  be  alarmed,  darlings.  I 
did  n't  kill  him.  He  came  at  last,  booted  up  to 
his  middle,  with  a  Canadian  capote  and  hood,  and 
a  leather  belt  buckled  tightly  around  his  waist. 
But,  despite  his  Canadian  costume,  the  Cockney 
stuck  out  boldly  all  over  him.  He  had  a  roast- 
beef-and-porter  look,  red  cheeks,  and  big  English 
whiskers.  Again  I  had  to  go  over  my  list,  "  great 
box,  little  box,  bandbox,  bundle,"  to  the  potentate 
of  the  tariff.  I  gave  him  my  honor  as  a  gentleman, 
etc.,  and  then  told  him  my  profession,  and,  oh  !  my 


108  LETTER  FROM  CANADA. 

loves — oh  !  my  darling  children — what  is  fame  ?  he 
had  never  heard  of  Mr.  Burton,  the  comedian  !  Of 
course,  after  that,  you  agree  with  me  that  he  ought 
to  be  killed  at  once,  "  without  remorse  or  dread." 
And  he  had  such  an  aggravating  smell  of  Jiot  steak 
and  brandy-and-water.  Now,  I  suppose  you  think 
that  my  Ledger  story  of  intense  interest,  describing 
the  agonies  of  a  middle-aged  (or  more  so)  individual, 
is  over.  Not  a  bit  of  it.  The  fifth  act  is  to  come. 
We  were  jogging  along  in  the  cars,  slowly  crunch- 
ing the  hard  snow  on  the  rails,  when  we  came 
gradually  to  a  full  stop.  Presently  whisperings 
were  heard,  occasional  and  inquisitive  male  passen- 
gers braved  even  the  fury  of  the  storm,  and  went 
abroad  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  we  learned  that  there  was  a  "break  in  the 
road."  You  will  ask  the  meaning  of  the  phrase — 
so  did  I,  without  avail.  Gradually  the  passengers 
withdrew  from  the  car  (we  had  but  one)  and  I  was 
compelled  to  look  for  myself.  There  had  been  a 
collision,  or  rather  an  overtaking,  for  a  fast  passen- 
ger train  ran  into  a  freight  train,  and  fearful  work 
they  made  of  it.  I  went  back  for  Mrs.  Hughes  and 
the  bags,  coats,  and  books.  Heaven  knows  how  we 
got  along,  in  such  a  fearful  storm,  knee-deep  in 
snow  and  the  track  full  of  holes,  with  a  yawning 
gulf  on  each  side.  When  at  last  we  reached  our 
place  of  refuge,  we  found  the  car  so  high  off  the 


LETTER  FROM  CANADA.  109 

rail  that  it  seemed  impossible  to  mount  it.  Some 
gentlemen  helped  Mrs.  Hughes  in,  with  such  exer- 
tions that  I  expected  to  see  my  dear  old  friend 
pulled  into  bits.  Then  your  poor  father  was  left  to 
his  fate.  I  got  up — don't  ask  me  how,  but  when  I  get 
home  I  '11  climb  into  my  bedroom  window  from  the 
street,  to  show  you  how  I  did  it.  We  had  with  us 
in  the  car  an  admiring  friend  from  Detroit,  who 
claimed  relationship  with  me  because  his  son  mar- 
ried Niblo's  niece.  Well,  we  mustered  in  the  car, 
wet,  weary,  excited,  and  chilled  to  the  centre.  Oh  ! 
my  precious  ones,  did  n't  that  brandy  bottle  come 
in  well  in  that  scene  ?  How  I  let  them  smell  it,  and 
only  smell  it  !  How  I  took  a  drink  and  smacked 
my  lips,  and  drank  again,  and  did  n't  I  win  the 
heart  of  old  Niblo's  brother's  daughter's  husband's 
father  by  giving  him  a  big  drink  ?  At  last  we 
started,  slowly,  backed  into  Hamilton  at  half-past 
four  in  the  morning,  with  snow  two  feet  deep  in  the 
streets.  Half  an  hour's  ride  in  a  dilapidated  article 
of  the  omnibus  genus,  and  we  were  dumped  at  a 
place  a  cad  called  the  "  Hanglo-American  'Otel," 
recommended  me  by  Miss  Niblo's  marital  ancestor. 
A  fire  in  my  room,  a  quiet  night's  rest,  a  good 
breakfast  (first-class  venison  steak),  and  I  feel  quite 
well.  My  feet  were  wet.  My  boots  could  hardly 
be  pulled  off,  and  in  revenge  to-day  they  won't  be 
pulled  on.  Now  am  I  not  a  brave  old  papa  to 


IIO  LAST  APPEARANCE. 

carry  a  heart  disease  and  a  nervous  cough  through 
such  scenes  ? 

We  are  now  forty  miles  from  Toronto,  whither 
we  proceed  at  nine  in  the  morning.  I  hear  melan- 
choly doings  are  prevalent  at  the  place  we  are 
bound  to,  and  this  deep  snow  will  not  make  it  any 
better.  If  business  is  bad,  I  shall  stay  but  one 
week,  and  go  to  Rochester  for  the  second  week. 

I  am  afraid  our  plants  at  Glen  Cove  were  badly 
hurt  by  the  cold  spell  coming  on  so  suddenly.  I 
hope  this  weather  has  not  increased  your  coughs. 
My  cough  is  still  troublesome,  but  I  am  every  way 
better. 

May  the  great  God  of  goodness  keep  His  bless- 
ing on  all  my  children  ;  may  they  keep  in  health, 
and  in  the  spirit  of  love  with  each  other,  is  the 
nightly  prayer  of 

Their  affectionate  father, 

W.  E.  BURTON. 

The  last  appearance  of  the  comedian  on  any 
stage  was  at  Mechanics'  Hall,  Hamilton,  Can- 
ada, December  16,  1859.  He  played  Aminadab 
Sleek  and  Goodluck  in  "John  Jones."  He  re- 
turned from  the  trip  in  an  almost  exhausted 
condition,  and,  after  lingering  for  nearly  two 
months,  suffering  greatly,  died  of  enlargement 


PAR  TS  PERFORMED.  1 1 1 

of  the  heart,  February  10,  1860.  Mr.  Burton 
left  a  wife  and  three  daughters,  all  of  whom 
are  living.  His  remains  were  interred  in 
Greenwood  Cemetery. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  parts  acted  by  Mr. 
Burton,  and  though  probably  there  are  many 
omissions,  it  fully  justifies  Ireland's  observation 
that  his  repertory  was  extended  almost  indefi- 
nitely, and  "  carried  into  a  range,  where,  if  he 
was  sometimes  excelled  by  Placide  and  Blake, 
his  rivalry  was  such  as  to  demand  every  effort 
on  their  part  to  retain  their  generally  acknowl- 
edged superiority."  It  may  be  mentioned  that 
the  parts  of  Aminadab  Sleek  and  Timothy 
Toodle  were  acted  by  Burton  respectively  six 
hundred  and  six  hundred  and  forty  times. 

LIST    OF   CHARACTERS  PERFORMED    BY    MR.  BURTON. 

CHARACTERS.  PLAYS. 

HOST,  i 

FALSTAFF     C  *n  "  ^^e  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor." 

DROMIO,  in  "  The  Comedy  of  Errors." 

DR.  OLLAPOD,  , 

SIR  ROBERT  BRAMBLE,    j-in<<The  Poor  Gentleman." 
MUNNS,  in  "Forty  Winks." 


112 


PARTS  PERFORMED. 


CHARACTERS. 

JOB  THORNBERRY,  in 
LAUNCELOT  GOBBO,  in 
HARROP,  in 

BOTTOM,  in 

CALIBAN,  in 

SIR  TOBY  BELCH,  in 
CAPT.  CUTTLE,  in 

TIMOTHY  TOODLE,  in 
AMINADAB  SLEEK,  in 
VAN  DUNDER,  in 

TRIPLET,  in 

BOB  ACRES,  in 

DR.    PANGLOSS,      ) 
LORD    DUBERLY,  )     m 
BILLY  LACKADAY,     in 
PILLICODDY,  in 

TOBY  TRAMP,  in 

TONY  LUMPKIN.  in 
CHAS.  GOLDFINCH,  in 
JACQUES  STROP,  in 
SEPTIMUS  PODDLE,  in 
JEM  BAGGS,  in 

SLASHER,  in 

JOHN  UNIT,  in 


PLAYS. 

John  Bull." 
1  The  Merchant  of  Venice." 

The  Innkeeper's  Daughter." 
'  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream." 

The  Tempest." 
1  Twelfth  Night." 
1  Dombey  and  Son." 
'  The  Toodles." 
'  The  Serious  Family." 
'  The  Dutch  Governor." 

Masks  and  Faces." 
1  The  Rivals." 

'  The  Heir-at-Law." 

'  Sweethearts  and  Wives." 

'  Poor  Pillicoddy." 

'  The  Mummy." 

'  She  Stoops  to  Conquer." 

'The  Road  to  Ruin." 

1  Robert  Macaire." 

'  Take  That  Girl  Away." 

'  The  Wandering  Minstrel." 

1  Slasher  and  Crasher." 

'  Self." 


GREGORY  THIMBERWELL,     in  "  State  Secrets." 


BONNYCASTLE, 
JEREMIAH  CLIP, 
DIMPLE, 
MEGRIM, 
FELIX  FUMER, 
LA  FLEUR, 
TOM  RIPSTONE, 


in  "The  Two  Bonnycastles." 

in  "  The  Widow's  Victim." 

in  "  Leap  Year." 

in  "  Blue  Devils." 

in  "  The  Laughing  Hyena." 

in  "Animal  Magnetism." 

in  "  Evil  Genius." 


PARTS  PERFORMED. 


CHARACTERS. 

TOM  NODDY, 
SNOBBINGTON, 
PETTIBONE,  in 

PAUL  PRY,  in 

JOE  BAGS,  in 

SIR  OLIVER  SURFACE, 
SIR  PETER  TEAZLE, 


MEDDLE, 

THOMAS  TROT, 

WORMWOOD, 

WADDILOVE, 

SQUEERS, 

MICAWBER, 

JOHN  MILDMAY, 

SUDDEN, 

CALEB  QUOTEM, 

PEDRO, 

SCHNAPPS, 

MR.  BUMBLE, 

PETER  SPYK,  in 

MOCK  DUKE,  in 

SIRWM.FONDLOVE,  in 

CODDLE,    i 

DOVE,          \ 

DOMINIE  SAMPSON,  in 

PETER,  in 

MR.  GILMAN,  in 

GRAVES,  in 

DUKE'S  SERVANT,      in 


in  "  Tom  Noddy's  Secret." 
in  "  A  Good  Night's  Rest." 
in  "  A  Kiss  in  the  Dark." 
in  "  Paul  Pry." 
in  "  Wanted  1000  Milliners." 

j-  in  "  The  School  for  Scandal. 

"  London  Assurance." 

"  Paris  and  London." 

"  The  Lottery  Ticket." 

"To  Parents  and  Guardians." 

"  Nicholas  Nickleby." 

"  David  Copperfield." 

"  Still  Waters  Run  Deep." 

"  The  Breach  of  Promise." 

"  The  Review." 

"Cinderella." 

in  "  The  Naiad  Queen." 

in  "  Oliver  Twist." 

in  "  The  Loan  of  a  Lover." 

in  "  The  Honeymoon." 
The  Love  Chase." 


in  "  Married  Life." 

Guy  Mannering." 

The  Stranger." 

Happiest  Day  of  My  Life." 

Money." 

High  Life  Below  Stairs." 

Pickwick." 


SAM  WELLER, 

DON  WHISKERANDOS,  in  "  The  Critic." 

SIMPSON,  in  "  Simpson  &  Co." 


114 


PARTS  PERFORMED. 


CHARACTERS. 

TOUCHSTONE,  in 

TOM  TAPE,  in 

TONY  BAVARD,  in 

SCRUB,  in 

BROWN,  in 

FLUID,  in 

NICHOLAS  RUE,  in 

MR.  FLARE,  in 
FREDERICK  STORK,  in 

MR.  TWEEDLE,  in 

GALOCHARD,  in 

SNOWBALL,  in 

WAGGLES,  in 

EUCLID  FACILE,  in 

JENKINS,  in 

BULLFROG,  in 

BOX,  in 

MRS.  MACBETH,  in 
CHRISTOPHER  STRAP, 

OLD  RAPID,  in 

COL.  DAMAS,  in 
VERGES,          i 
DOGBERRY,  \ 

JOHN  SMITH,  in 
EPHRAIM  JENKINSON, 

MICHAEL,  in 

TETTERBY,  in 

MR.  MENNY,  in 
PIERRE  DE  LA  ROCHE, 

SPHINX,  in 

TOM  BOBOLINK,  in 

PICADILLY,  in 


PLAYS. 

"As You  Like  It." 

"  Sketches  in  India." 

"  The  French  Spy." 

"  Now-a-Days." 

"  Kill  or  Cure." 

"  The  Water  Party." 

"  Secrets  Worth  Knowing." 

"  Such  As  It  Is." 

"  The  Prince's  Frolic." 

"  The  Broken  Heart." 

"  The  King's  Gardener." 

"  The  Catspaw." 

"Friend  Waggles." 

"  Twice  Killed." 

"  Gretna  Green." 

"  The  Rent  Day." 

"  Box  and  Cox." 

"  Macbeth  Travestie." 

in  "  Pleasant  Neighbors." 

"  A  Cure  For  the  Heartache." 

"  The  Lady  of  Lyons." 

"  Much  Ado  About  Nothing." 

"  Nature's  Nobleman." 
in  "  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield." 
11  Love  in  Humble  Life." 
"  The  Haunted  Man." 
"  Socialism." 

in  "  The  Midnight  Watch." 
"  The  Sphinx." 
"  Temptation." 
"  Burton's  New  York  Directory. 


PARTS  PERFORMED. 


CHARACTERS.  PLAYS. 

JUSTICE  WOODCOCK,  in  "  Love  in  a  Village." 

BILL,  in  "Peep  From  the  Parlor  Windows." 

HARESFOOT,  in  "  Life  Among  the  Players." 

NOGGS,  in  "  The  Mormons." 

MARC  ANTONY  BAROWN,  in  "  A  Great  Tragic  Revival." 


SIGNOR  TOPAZ, 
VANDAM, 
COL.  ROCKET, 
VON  FIEZENSPAN 
JONAS  BLOT, 
EPAMINONDAS, 
ANTHONY  GAB, 
BONUS, 

WILLIAM  RUFUS, 
COL.  GOLDIE, 
BERRYMAN,  in 

DICK,  in 

SUCKLING,  in 

SPATTERDASH,  in 

BOB  CLOVER,  in 

OLD  REVEL,  in 

GILES  GRIZZLE,  in 

BALTHAZAR,  in 

WILLIAM  LINK,  in 

BLANQUET,  in 

BRAINWORM,  in 

MANUEL  COGGS,          in 
RATTAN,  in 

GREGORY  GRIZZLE,  in 
DELPH,  in 

TEWBERRY,  in 


;<  Fascination." 
"  Wall  Street."     , 
"  Old  Heads  and  Young  Hearts." 
"  The  Slave  Actress." 
"  The  Poor  Scholar." 
"  Genevieve." 
"•The  Witch  Wife." 
"  Laugh  When  You  Can." 
"  Helping  Hands." 
in  "  'T  is  111  Playing  with  Edged  Tools." 


'  False  Pretences." 

1  Ellen  Wareham." 

'  Education." 

'  The  Young  Quaker." 

1  Married  an  Actress." 

'  School  for  Grown  Children." 

'Stag  Hall." 

'  Player's  Plot." 

;'The  Fox-Hunt." 

"  The  Lancers." 

"  Every  Man  in  His  Humor." 

"  Married  by  Force." 

"  The  Beehive." 

•'  My  Wife  and  Umbrella." 

"  Family  Jars." 

"A  Heart  of  Gold." 


JUPITER, 


in  "  Apollo  in  New  York." 


n6 


PARTS  PERFORMED. 


CHARACTERS. 

COUNT  VENTOSO, 
DR.  LACQUER, 
DE  BONHOMME, 


PLAYS. 

in  "  Pride  Must  Have  a  Fall." 
in  "  Our  Set." 
in  "  A  Nice  Young  Man." 
SIR  HIPPINGTON  MIFF,  in  "Comfortable  Lodgings." 
MAXIMUS  HOGSFLESH,  in  "  Barbers  at  Court." 
FRIGHT,  in  "Crimson  Crimes." 

INFANTE  FURIBOND,  in  "  Invisible  Prince." 


MR.  GREENFINCH,  in 

TIMOTHY  QUAINT,  in 

SIR  SIMON  SLACK,  in 

PEEPING  TOM,  in 

TRISTAM  SAPPY,  in 

CODGER,  in 

TACTIC,  in 

TONY  NETTLETOP,  in 

TOBIAS  SHORTCUT,  in 

BOB  TICKET,  in 

JEREMY  DIDDLER,  in 

JACK  HUMPHREYS,  in 

MAW-WORM,  in 

DAFFODIL  TWOD,  in 

GOLIGHTLY,  in 


'Duel  in  the  Dark." 
'  Soldier's  Daughter." 
'  Spring  and  Autumn." 
'  All  at  Coventry." 
'  Deaf  as  a  Post." 
'You  're  Another." 
1  My  Fellow  Clerk." 
1  Love  in  a  Maze." 
1  The  Spitfire." 
An  Alarming  Sacrifice." 
Raising  the  Wind." 
Turning  the  Tables." 
The  Hypocrite." 
The  Ladies'  Man." 
Lend  Me  Five  Shillings." 


CHRISTOPHER  CROOKPATH, 


and 


j  in    "  Upper   Ten 
'  I      Lower  Twenty." 
GHOST,  in  "  Hamlet  Travestie." 

DIGGORY,  in  "  The  Spectre  Bridegroom." 

BENJAMIN  BUZZARD,  in  "  The  Two  Buzzards." 
MARMADUKE  MOUSER,  in   "Betsey  Baker." 
CRACK,  in  "The  Turnpike  Gate." 

BILLY  BLACK,  in  "  loo-Pound  Note."       . 

CAPT.  COPP,  in  "Charles  the  Second." 

MAR  ALL,  in  "  New  Way  to  Pay  Old  Debts." 


PARTS  PERFORMED.  1 1/ 

CHARACTERS.  PLAYS. 

TOBIAS  SHORTCUT,  in  "  The  Cockney." 

PETER  POPPLES,         in  "  Man  of  Many  Friends." 

ADAM  BROCK,  in  "  Charles  the  Twelfth." 

RICHARD  PRIDE,        in  "Janet  Pride." 

POLONIUS,  ) 

FIRST  GRAVE-DIGGER,   f  m  "  Hamlet> 

FIRST  WITCH,  in  "  Macbeth." 

SIR  GEORGE  THUNDER,  in  "  Wild  Oats." 

GUY  GOODLUCK,         in  "  John  Jones." 

MARPLOT,  in  "  The  Busybody." 

JOE  SEDLEY,  in  "  Vanity  Fair." 

GIL,  in  "  Giralda." 

QUEEN  BEE,  in  "  St.  Cupid." 

DABCHICK,  in  "  How  to  Make  Home  Happy." 

SHADOWLY  SOFTHEAD,  in  "  Not  So  Bad  As  We  Seem." 

SMYTH,  in  "  Mind  Your  Own  Business." 

SIR  TIMOTHY  STILTON,  in  "  Patrician  and  Parvenu." 

CARDINAL  MAZARIN,  in  "  Youthful  Days  of  Louis  XIV." 

T  WINKS,  in  "  Mrs.  Bunbury's  Spoons. " 


RECOLLECTIONS 

OF 

MR.  BURTON'S  PERFORMANCES 


"And  now  what  rests  but  that  we  spend  the  time 
With  stately  triumphs,  mirthful  comic  shows" 

— SHAKESPEARE. 


119 


RECOLLECTIONS. 


WHEN  Burton  opened  in  Chambers  Street, 
he  was  forty-four  years  old,  in  the  prime  of 
life,  his  powers  mature  and  approaching  culmi- 
nation. Let  us  endeavor  to  give  a  portrait  of 
the  comedian  as  he  appeared  at  this  time. 
Above  the  medium  height ;  rotund  in  form, 
yet  not  cumbersome  ;  limbs  well  proportioned  ; 
deep-chested,  with  harmonious  breadth  of 
shoulder ;  neck  short  and  robust ;  large  and 
well-balanced  head  ;  the  hair  worn  short  be- 
hind, longer  in  front,  and  brushed  smartly 
toward  the  temples ;  face  clean-shaven  ;  com- 
plexion bordering  on  the  florid  ;  full  chin  and 
cheeks ;  eyes  seemingly  blue  or  gray,  beneath 
brows  not  over  heavy,  and  capable  of  every 
conceivable  expression ;  nose  straight,  and 
somewhat  sharply  inclined ;  mouth  large,  the 

121 


122  RECOLLECTIONS. 

lips  thin,  and  wearing  in  repose  a  smile  half 
playful,  half  trenchant.  Such  is  the  picture 
memory  draws,  the  likeness  in  some  degree 
confirmed  by  engravings  in  our  possession. 
Outlined  thus,  and  in  his  proper  person,  he 
seemed  in  general  aspect  to  blend  the  suave 
respectability  of  a  bank  president  with  the 
easy-going  air  of  an  English  country  squire. 
We  shall  have  occasion  to  refer  in  due  course 
to  the  marvellous  changes  that  were  possible 
to  that  face  and  form,  when  the  man  became 
the  actor  and  walked  the  stage  with  Momus, 
with  Dickens,  and  with  Shakespeare.  Promi- 
nent among  his  physical  attributes  was  a  clear, 
strong  voice,  capable  of  a  great  variety  of  in- 
tonations, and  his  delivery  was  such  that  no 
words  of  his  were  ever  lost  in  any  part  of  the 
house. 

Before  entering  the  wide  field  of  our  mem- 
ories, we  wish  to  offer  some  observations  re- 
specting the  comedian's  mental  equipment, 
and  to  consider  briefly  the  features  of  his  un- 
rivalled powers.  We  have  no  doubt  but  that 


RECOLLECTIONS.  1 2  3 

the  classical  education  of  his  youth  had  much 
to  do  with  his  early  preference  for  the  tragic 
muse.  His  mind,  imbued  with  admiration  for 
classic  form  and  color,  was  fed  with  divine 
images,  which,  while  replete  with  grace  and 
beauty,  bore  still  the  impress  of  Greek  austerity. 
He  inclined  naturally,  therefore,  toward  the 
conception  of  that  which  was  the  predominat- 
ing influence  in  his  mental  training.  At  the 
same  time,  after  eschewing  his  predilections 
for  tragedy,  he  found  that  the  classic  discipline 
had  created  a  receptivity  of  mind  in  the  high- 
est degree  important  to  his  future  study  ;  and 
that  quickened  apprehension  proved  of  inesti- 
mable value  in  his  subsequent  introduction  to 
Shakespeare,  the  old  dramatists,  and  in  all  his 
intellectual  excursions. 

Yielding  to  him,  then,  this  vantage-ground 
of  culture,  let  us  glance  at  the  attributes  of  his 
genius,  which  entitle  him,  as  we  think,  to  the 
claim  made  for  him — namely,  one  of  the  great- 
est actors  in  his  line  the  stage  has  known.  We 
need  not  specify  that  line  further  than  to  say 


124  RECOLLECTIONS. 

that  it  passes  with  the  title  of  "  low  comedy  " ; 
but  Burton's  versatility  was  so  extraordinary, 
his  repertory  so  extended,  his  conceptions  so 
forcible,  that  the  theatric  nomenclature  seems 
insufficient  to  define  and  measure  the  scope 
and  range  of  his  abilities.  His  impersonations, 
especially  those  Shakespearian,  were  often  of 
too  high  an  order  to  be  classed  under  the  ac- 
cepted notion  of  low  comedy.  Let  us  style 
him  an  expounder  and  representative  of  the 
Humor  of  the  Drama  in  all  its  aspects, 
and  we  shall  come  nearer  to  what  he  really 
was.  For  an  all-embracing  perception  of 
humor  revealed  itself  perpetually  in  his  acting. 
As  the  imagination  of  Longfellow  transformed 
to  organ  pipes  the  musketry  of  the  Springfield 
Arsenal,  so  would  Burton  change  dull  inanities 
into  vital  and  joyous  images.  This  informing 
power,  this  native  faculty  of  rising  superior  to 
the  part  assumed,  and  investing  it  with  un- 
dreamed-of humorous  interest,  was  an  instinct 
of  his  genius,  and  gave  to  all  his  embodiments 
an  originality  and  a  flavor  peculiarly  his  own. 


RECOLLECTIONS.  12$ 

The  character  mattered  not.  It  might  be 
Nick  Bottom  or  Paul  Pry,  Cuttle  or  Micawber, 
Doctor  Ollapod  or  Charles  Goldfinch,  Sleek  or 
Toodle.  There  was  the  complete  identification, 
the  superlative  realization  of  the  author's 
meaning  ;  but  the  felicitous  interpretation,  the 
by-play,  the  way  of  saying  a  thing,  the  facial 
expression — his  own  and  no  other  man's, — the 
Burtonian  touch  and  treatment.  In  the  extrava- 
gance of  farcical  abandon  no  one  ever  was 
funny  as  he.  In  comic  portraits  like  Toby 
Tramp  or  Jem  Baggs,  he  absolutely  exhaled 
mirth  ;  and  we  cannot  help  thinking  how  per- 
fectly Hazlitt  describes  him  in  writing  of  Lis- 
ton  :  "  His  farce  is  not  caricature  ;  his  drollery 
oozes  out  of  his  features,  and  trickles  down  his 
face ;  his  voice  is  a  pitch-pipe  for  laughter." 
"  We  have  seen  Burton,"  says  Wemyss,  "  keep 
an  audience  in  roars  of  inextinguishable  laugh- 
ter, for  minutes  in  succession,  while  an  expres- 
sion of  ludicrous  bewilderment,  of  blank 
confusion,  or  pompous  inflation,  settled  upon 
his  countenance."  And  this  was  penned  by 


126  RECOLLECTIONS. 

Wemyss  at  a  time  when  Cuttle,  Micawber, 
Sleek,  and  Toodle  were  yet  to  be. 

In  thus  indicating  Burton's  natural  gifts,  we 
must  not  lose  sight  of  the  study  and  knowl- 
edge necessary  to  their  development  and  to 
the  achievement  of  his  fame.  Let  it  not  be 
supposed  that  his  famous  delineations  were  so 
many  intuitions,  easily  shaped  and  clothed  by 
him  into  substantial  dramatic  form.  Easy,  in- 
deed, they  might  appear  in  the  handling — 
for  it  was  characteristic  of  the  great  comedian 
never  to  seem  to  entirely  expend  himself, — he 
always  suggested  a  reserved  force ; — but  this 
facile  rendering  was  attained  at  the  expense  of 
as  much  intellectual  attrition  as  Moore  de- 
clared the  melodious  numbers  of  his  verse 
often  cost  him. 

The  late  Dr.  John  W.  Francis  relates  a  con- 
versation with  the  famous  George  Frederick 
Cooke,  respecting  the  actor's  impersonation  of 
Sir  Pertinax  Macsycophant,  and  in  reply  to  the 
question,  how  he  acquired  so  profound  a 
knowledge  of  the  Scotch  accentuation,  Cooke 


RECOLLECTIONS.  12? 

said :  "  I  studied  more  than  two  and  a  half 
years  in  my  own  room,  with  repeated  inter- 
course with  Scotch  society,  in  order  to  master 
the  Scottish  dialect,  before  I  ventured  to  appear 
on  the  boards  in  Edinburgh,  as  Sir  Pertinax, 
and  when  I  did,  Sawney  took  me  for  a  native. 
It  was  the  hardest  task  I  ever  undertook." 
How  do  we  know  how  many  years  of  thought- 
ful application  the  comedian's  masterpieces 
expressed  ? 

Mr.  Burton  was  a  student  and  man  of  the 
world  as  well  as  actor,  and  the  supremacy  of 
his  performances  was  due  to  his  close  and  com- 
prehensive study  of  his  author,  his  acquaint- 
ance with  dramatic  composition,  his  artistic 
sense,  his  thorough  knowledge  of  the  stage, 
his  varied  experience,  his  human  insight, — the 
rest,  like  Dogberry's  reading  and  writing, 
came  by  nature. 

It  is  a  habit  with  old  play-goers,  when  over 
their  cakes  and  ale,  to  recall  the  "  palmy  days  " 
of  the  drama,  and  to  say:  "Ah,  you  should 
have  seen ;  he  was  a  great  artist — none 


128  RECOLLECTIONS. 

equal  to  him  nowadays.  Ah,  the  stage  has 
declined  since  the  old  time."  We  do  not 
wholly  believe  in  the  drama's  decadence,  but 
as  we  enter  upon  our  Recollections  we  feel 
that  there  were  our  palmy  days,  and  the 
years  seem  long  between.  Twenty-four  have 
passed  since  the  comedian  died,  and  there  has 
been  no  sign  of  a  successor  to  the  mask  and 
mantle.  And  it  may  be  twice — nay,  thrice 
twenty  before  the  actor  shall  arise  who  will 
compel  us  to  recall  the  triumphs  of  Burton 
for  the  sake  of  comparison. 

MR.   BURTON  IN  FARCE. 

A  man  like  Mr.  Burton,  endowed  with  keen 
humorous  perception  and  the  mimetic  faculty, 
competent  to  express  easily  and  with  unction 
every  phase  of  mirthful  extravagance  sug- 
gested by  fancy  and  flow  of  spirit,  must  oc- 
casionally yield  to  the  imperious  demands  of 
his  nature,  and,  perforce,  when  so  pressed,  he 
opens  the  safety-valve  of  play  and  gives  escape 
to  his  excess  of  humor. 


RECOLLECTIONS.  12$ 

In  this  connection,  we  are  reminded  of  Syd- 
ney Smith,  as  an  example  of  humorous  irre- 
pressibility.  Restraint  seldom  fettered  the 
expression  of  the  witty  suggestions  of  his 
fancy.  It  was  as  natural  in  him  to  be  gay 
and  mirthful  as  it  was  to  breathe.  His  humor 
welled  from  a  perpetual  spring.  It  was  like 
the  profanity  of  the  Scotchman  who  did  n't 
swear  at  any  thing  particular,  but  just  stood  in 
the  middle  of  the  road  and  "swore  at  large." 
There  is  a  story  that  the  divine,  arriving  first 
at  a  gathering  of  notables,  was  ushered  into 
the  drawing-room,  which  was  hung  with  mirrors 
on  all  sides.  Seeing  himself  reflected  at  all 
points,  he  looked  around  and  observed  :  "  Ah, 
a  very  respectable  collection  of  clergymen  !  " 
Now  his  only  auditor  was  the  servant ;  but  the 
thought  came  and  was  at  once  expressed.  Of 
course,  Sydney  Smith  could  be  serious  when 
he  wished,  as  all  know  who  are  familiar  with 
his  life  and  works  ;  but  he  had  his  play-ground 
at  Holland  House  and  in  kindred  coteries,  where 
his  buoyant  spirit  worked  its  own  sweet  will. 


130  RECOLLECTIONS. 

When  the  clergyman  of  lugubrious  aspect 
called  upon  poor  Tom  Hood,  the  story  goes 
that  the  humorist  could  not  help  remarking: 
"  My  dear  Sir,  I  'm  afraid  your  religion  doesn't 
agree  with  you !  " — and  we  are  quite  willing  to 
believe  the  story  to  be  one  of  "  Hood's  Own," 
for  it  has  all  the  flavor  of  the  author  who  gave 
us  "  Laughter  from  Year  to  Year."  Instances 
might  be  multiplied  of  this  humorous  self- 
abandonment  ;  but  we  are  growing  digressive. 
The  train  of  reflection,  however,  leads  us  to 
the  belief  that  Burton's  merry-making  powers 
needed  occasionally  an  avenue  of  escape  ;  and 
the  safety-valve,  in  his  case,  was  often  found  in 
the  farces  his  acting  made  so  popular — those 
exhibitions  of  fun  and  drollery  in  which, 
through  the  lens  of  memory,  we  now  intend 
to  view  him. 

The  farce,  by  the  way,  is  a  thing  of  the 
past.  It  may  almost  be  said  that  as  a  form  of 
the  acting  drama,  at  least  in  America,  it  has 
been  passed  to  the  limbo  of  disuse.  Rarely,  if 
ever,  do  our  programmes  nowadays  bear  the 


RECOLLECTIONS.  1 3 1 

old,  familiar  formula  :  "  To  conclude  with  the 
laughable  Farce  of ."  We  are  no  longer  in- 
vited to  laugh  at  the  droll  situations  and  funny 
dialogues    contained   in   the  many   pieces   of 
Buckstone,  Mathews,  and  Morton  ;  yet  all  will 
admit  their  efficacy  to  beguile  a  lagging  hour, 
and   to    smooth   away   the   obtrusive   wrinkle 
from  the  proverbial  brow  of  care.      Such,  cer- 
tainly, was   the  power  they  exerted  in  other 
days  ;  and  perhaps  it  is  to  be  lamented  that  the 
frolic  atmosphere  diffused  by  those  comic  pro- 
ductions is  ours  no  more  to  make  merry  and 
revel  in.      "  Custom  exacts,   and   who  denies 
her   sway  ? "    remarks  Colman,    the  younger  ; 
and  for  many  years  the  design  of  our  mana- 
gers, in  catering  for  the  public,  has  compre- 
hended the  representation  of  one  play  only  for 
the    performance    of   an   evening ;    setting    it 
elaborately,    bestowing   upon   it  a   wealth    of 
scenic   embellishment,  and  presenting    it  gen- 
erally with  a  due  regard  to  strength  and  fit- 
ness of  cast.     Many  of  the  standard  comedies 
have    been    thus    illustrated — notably   "  The 


132  RECOLLECTIONS. 

School  for  Scandal  "  and  "  She  Stoops  to  Con- 
quer "  ;  the  comedies  of  Robertson — "  Home," 
"  Caste,"  "  School,"  "  Ours,"— have  been  so 
rendered  at  Wallack's,  and  at  the  same  theatre 
that  play  of  charming  improbabilities,  "  Rose- 
dale,"  has  enjoyed  a  periodic  return.  "  Led 
Astray,"  acted  so  long  at  the  Union  Square 
Theatre  ;  Mr.  Daly's  many  successful  adapta- 
tions, and  the  Irish  dramas  of  Mr.  Boucicault  ; 
"  The  Two  Orphans  "  ;  "  The  Banker's  Daugh- 
ter "  ;  "  Hazel  Kirke  "  ; — all  these,  and  more, 
are  like  examples.  Mr.  Jefferson's  "  Rip  Van 
Winkle  "  suffices  for  an  evening  ;  so  also  does 
Mr.  Raymond's  Col.  Sellers,  and  so  also  did  Mr. 
Sothern's  Dundreary.  This  new  departure 
may  be  a  very  good  departure,  for  it  gives 
us  perfection  in  the  details  of  scenery  and 
costume,  and  concentrates  the  managerial 
resources  in  one  splendid  whole  ;  and  we  may 
add,  that  a  theatrical  system  is  to  be  com- 
mended when  it  permits  the  audience  to  get 
comfortably  home  and  to  bed  before  midnight. 
But,  all  the  same,  if  Burton  were  living  and 


RE  COLLE  C  TIONS. 


133 


acting,  the  farce  would  hold  its  own  ;  and 
every  auditor  would  remain  to  the  fall  of  the 
curtain,  for  the  last  glimpse  of  that  face,  the 
last  word  and  action  of  that  comedian  who  held 
such  sway  over  the  risibilities  of  mankind. 

If  among  our  readers  there  should  be  any 
old  play-goers,  they  cannot  fail  to  remember 
how  often  they  dropped  in  for  an  hour's  hilar- 
ity with  "  The  Wandering  Minstrel,"  or  "  Poor 
Pillicoddy."  For,  as  previously  stated,  it  was 
a  circumstance  by  no  means  unusual  to  see 
fresh  arrivals  lining  the  walls  of  the  theatre, 
drawn  thither  by  the  potent  magnet  of  Burton 
in  the  farce.  It  was  a  matter  of  almost  as 
much  consequence  to  know  what  afterpiece 
was  on  the  bill  as  what  comedy.  Often,  in- 
deed, the  effect  produced  by  Burton  in  some 
exceptionally  droll  part  had  become  so  widely 
known,  that  to  see  him  in  it  was  the  prime 
object  of  a  visit  to  the  theatre  ;  and  if  to 
the  question  —  "  What  does  Burton  play 
to-night  ? "  the  answer  named  Toby  Tramp, 
Madame  Vanderpants,  or  the  like,  it  was 


1 34  RECOLLECTIONS. 

enough :  "  Let  us  go !  "  was  the  eager  excla- 
mation. 

What  a  piece  of  fun  was  Toby  Tramp,  in 
"  The  Mummy  "  !  How  many  who  are  living 
now  will  laugh  as  they  recall  the  appearance  of 
Burton  in  that  close-fitting  garment,  covered 
with  hieroglyphics !  The  plot  is  simple  and 
easily  told.  Toby  is  an  itinerant  player,  needy 
and  shabby,  out  at  elbow  and  out  of  money  ; 
and  agrees  fora  cash  consideration  to  personate 
a  mummy,  already  sold  and  promised  to  an  old 
antiquarian.  As  we  think  of  the  scene  in 
which  the  bargain  is  concluded  we  remember 
how  full  of  stage  strut  and  quotation  Burton 
was,  and  how  he  embraced  the  opportunity  to 
present  a  specimen  of  Toby's  histrionic  quality, 
selecting  the  familiar  soliloquy  of  Richard,  and 
giving  it  as  he  (Toby)  declared  Shakespeare 
ought  always  to  be  interpreted.  He  com- 
menced : 

"  Now  is  the  winter  of  our  discontent " — 

and  with  the  words  turned  up  his  coat-collar, 


RECOLLECTIONS.  1 3  5 

blew  his  fingers,  shivered,  and  was  frozen  gen- 
erally. Continuing  then  : 

' '  Made  glorious  summer  by  this  sun  of  York  " — 

he  instantly  thawed,  threw  open  his  coat, 
puffed,  and  from  his  brow  wiped  the  perspira- 
tion. And  so  he  went  through  the  whole.  At 
the  words  "  Grim-visag'd  war,"  a  gloomy  and 
malignant  frown  darkened  his  features,  which 
changed,  as  he  pronounced  "  hath  smoothed 
his  wrinkled  front,"  to  a  bland  expression  of 
peace  ; — and  the  climax  was  reached  when  at 
the  lines : 

"  He  capers  nimbly  in  a  lady's  chamber, 
To  the  lascivious  pleasing  of  a  lute  " — 

he  executed  a  fantastic  dance,  thrumming  the 
while  an  imaginary  guitar. 

This  burlesque,  for  aught  we  know,  may 
have  been  an  interpolation,  a  contribution  of 
Burton  himself  to  the  fund  of  merriment — one 
of  the  instances,  in  fact,  where  he  dropped  the 
rein  and  let  Momus  have  his  way.  But  how- 
ever it  came,  the  travesty  created  unbounded 


1 36  RECOLLECTIONS. 

amusement,  and  put  the  audience  in  the  best 
possible  humor  ;  yet  we  feel  how  pointless  is 
our  sketch  to  even  suggest  the  facial  power,  the 
comic  attitudes,  the  air,  the  touches  of  drollery, 
born  of  the  whole  scene  ;  and  our  readers  must 
summon  their  imagination  to  help  our  failure. 
The  next  scene  is  the  antiquarian's  museum, 
and  the  mummy  is  brought  in.  After  the 
necessary  raptures  consequent  upon  such  a 
unique  possession,  the  professor  withdraws  and 
the  stage  is  left  alone.  There  lies  the  mummy 
in  his  case,  and  a  pause  succeeds.  The  intent 
audience  observe  a  slight  movement  in  the 
box.  Slowly  the  head  of  Burton  is  raised,  and 
he  glances  warily  around  the  room.  Raising 
himself  to  a  sitting  posture  in  the  case,  he 
turns  toward  the  audience  his  marvellous  face, 
on  which  rests  an  expression  of  doleful  humili- 
ation. We  shall  never  forget  how,  finally,  he 
rose  to  his  feet,  stepped  out  of  the  case,  walked 
abjectly  to  the  foot-lights,  looked  his  disguise 
all  over  with  intense  concern,  and  then  turned 
to  the  house — by  this  time  scarcely  able  to 


RECOLLECTIONS.  137 

contain  itself — and  said,  with  the  accent  of 

self-reproach  and  mortification — "  I  'm if 

I  'm  not  ashamed  of  myself  !  " 

Situations  follow,  affording  full  opportunity 
for  the  display  of  Burton's  humorous  charac- 
teristics ;  but  we  need  not  pursue  them  in 
detail.  He  frightens  everybody  as  a  mummy  ; 
makes  love  as  a  mummy  ;  devours  the  anti- 
quarian's dinner ;  has  his  tragic  bursts  ; — in 
short,  leaves  nothing  to  be  desired  on  the  part 
of  those  who  paid  their  money  to  laugh  and  be 
jolly  with  him. 

Mad.  Vanderpants  was  another  uproarious 
creation,  more  laughable  even,  in  some  ways, 
than  "The  Mummy."  Joe  Baggs  (Burton)  is 
a  lawyer's  clerk,  and  during  the  absence  of  his 
employer  on  a  journey,  arranges  a  programme 
of  deviltry  for  himself  and  comrade  (T.  B. 
Johnston).  Baggs  becomes  Mad.  Vanderpants, 
and  his  companion  Miss  Smithers,  her  assist- 
ant, and  they  advertise  for  "A  Thousand  Mil- 
liners." Burton's  "  make-up  "  was  one  of  the 
most  astonishing  things  we  ever  saw,  and 


138  RECOLLECTIONS. 

Johnston's  was  by  no  means  lacking  in  artistic 
finish.  The  milliflers  arrive  (that  is  a  represen- 
tation), and  then  ensues  an  hour  of  unparal- 
leled fun  and  frolic.  The  manner  of  Burton  in 
sustaining  the  character  and  in  replying  with 
complacent  air  to  the  numerous  questions 
asked  by  the  deluded  damsels,  was  so  supreme- 
ly ludicrous  that  we  pause  in  writing  to  laugh 
at  the  remembrance.  Some  work  is  wanted, 
and  the  window  shades  are  unceremoniously 
torn  down  and  given  to  the  milliners.  "  What 
shall  we  do  with  it  ?  ask  they.  "  Do  ?  "  replied 
Burton,  with  imperturbable  gravity,  "  Why, 
you  can  hemstitch  it  up  one  side,  and  back- 
stitch it  down  the  other — and  then  gusset  it  all 
around  !  "  The  fun  waxes  fast  and  furious, 
when  suddenly  the  employer  returns.  The 
denouement  can  be  imagined ;  we  cannot  de- 
scribe it ; — but  those  who  remember  Burton's 
mimetic  power,  and  his  faculty  to  express 
abject  terror  and  kindred  emotions,  can  well 
understand  what  a  scene  of  indescribable  riotous 
humor  it  was.  And  we  cannot  omit,  in  refer- 


RECOLLECTIONS.  1 39 

ring  to  this  farce,  to  mention  the  admirable 
support  given  by  the  lamented  Mrs.  Hughes, 
who,  as  one  of  the  milliners,  contributed  largely 
to  the  general  success  by  her  conscientious 
acting. 

How  can  we,  in  this  allotted  space,  deal 
justly  with  our  crowding  memories?  What 
shall  we  say  of  Jem  Baggs,  in  "  The  Wander- 
ing Minstrel  "  ? — that  minstrel  whose  entrance 
on  the  stage  was  heralded  by  a  sounding  strain 
certainly  never  before  heard  on  sea  or  land, 
and  whose  appearance,  as  he  emerged  from  the 
wing,  continuing  still  the  dirge-like  air,  was  a 
signal  for  a  gleeful  burst  all  over  the  house. 
How  paint  his  introduction,  under  a  mistaken 
identity,  into  musical  society ;  the  situation 
that  follows;  his  song  of  "  All  Around  My 
Hat " ;  the  comic  incidents  that  strew  the 
too-fleeting  hour  of  his  career? 

How  view  him  as  Pillicoddy,  awaiting  with 
supreme  anguish  the  "  turning  up  "  of  his  wife's 
"  first,"  through  all  the  phases  of  ludicrous 
bravado  and  comic  despair  ? 


140  RECOLLECTIONS. 

How  depict  him  in  "  Turning  the  Tables  "  ? 
or  in  "  The  Siamese  Twins "  ?  or  in  "  That 
Blessed  Baby  "  ?  How  see  him  as  Mr.  Dabchick, 
in  "  The  Happiest  Day  of  My  Life  "  ?  or  as 
Megrim,  in  "  Blue  Devils,"  and  ever  so  many 
more? 

And  yet  we  ought  to  linger  on  each  one  ;  for 
we  have  never  seen  them  since,  and  it  may  be 
we  may  never  see  them  again — certain  is  it 
that  we  shall  never  see  them  so  performed. 
And  only  for  the  sake  of  refreshing  a  memory 
of  something  greater  would  we  wish  to  behold 
them  now. 

In  concluding  this  imperfect  tracing  of 
recollection,  we  are  conscious  of  many  defi- 
ciencies ;  one  of  these  a  few  final  words  may 
supply. 

We  have  said  nothing  of  the  individualiza- 
tion  of  Burton's  many  characters  in  farce.  It 
is  true  that  the  native  hue  and  flavor  of  the 
comedian's  humor  were  so  strong,  and  his 
physique  so  pronounced,  that  he  himself  was 
always  more  or  less  apparent  in  whatever 


RECOLLECTIONS.  141 

guise ;  but  it  would  be  a  great  mistake  to  sup- 
pose that  in  the  parts  above  named  there  was 
no  essential  difference,  with  respect  to  por- 
traiture. There  was  a  difference,  and  it  was 
clearly  marked.  Each  was  a  picture  by  itself 
— each  a  distinct  characterization  ;  and  in  the 
development  the  author  was  often  left  so  far 
behind  that  the  actor  became  the  creator. 
But  this  loyalty  to  ideal  perception  denotes, 
as  it  seem  to  us,  that  even  in  farcical  abandon 
his  delineations  were  shaped  and  governed  by 
his  artistic  sense. 

MR.    BURTON   IN    PARTS    HE    MADE    SPECIALLY 
FAMOUS. 

The  familiar  picture  of  John  Philip  Kemble 
in  the  character  of  Hamlet,  standing  at  Ophelia  s 
grave,  in  sad  retrospection  over  the  skull  of 
Yorick,  always  impressed  us  as  a  revelation  of 
the  fact  that  an  actor's  fame  is  bequeathed  to 
posterity  in  the  traditions  of  effect  produced 
by  a  few  celebrated  embodiments,  and  is  for- 
ever associated  with  those  special  triumphs. 


142  RECOLLECTIONS. 

That  Kemble  was  a  supreme  representative  of 
the  impressive  school,  that  he  merited  the 
glowing  eulogium  contained  in  Campbell's  elo- 
quent verses,  there  will  be  no  question  ;  but 
when  we  think  of  him  or  read  of  him,  the 
figure  of  the  Dane  looms  up  in  sombre  ma- 
jesty, and  we  are  haunted  by  the  avenging 
spirit  of  Elsinore. 

The  picture  of  Edmund  Kean,  as  Richard, 
kneeling  at  the  feet  of  Lady  Anne,  with  the 
words,  "  Take  up  the  sword  again,  or  take  up 
me,"  upon  his  lips,  impresses  us  in  the  same 
way ;  and  any  thought  of  that  great  tragedian 
conjures  an  attendant  vision  of  the  dark  and 
aspiring  Gloster. 

When,  in  the  years  to  come,  the  name  of 
Jefferson  is  spoken,  will  not  imagination  linger 
on  Rip  Van  Winkle  s  long  slumber  amid  the 
everlasting  hills  ?  and  will  not  Sothern  and 
Raymond  appeal  to  a  future  generation  as 
Dundreary  of  the  glaring  eye,  and  Sellers  of 
the  uplifted  arm  ?  And  we  have  no  doubt 
that  Mr.  Burton  is,  in  the  memory  of  those 


RECOLLECTIONS.  143 

now  living  who  saw  him,  and  will  be  to  those 
who  shall  know  him  from  tradition  and  dra- 
matic annals,  the  actor  who  was  so  inimitable 
as  Captain  Cuttle,  Aminadab  Sleek,  and  Timothy 
Toodles.  And  no  wonder.  The  mere  mention 
of  them  opens  the  flood-gate  of  recollection, 
and  we  seem  to  hear*  far  down  the  aisles  of 
time  the  free,  glad  laughter  of  delighted  audi- 
ences. If,  haply,  in  our  memories  hitherto  we 
have  struck  in  some  heart  the  chord  of  remi- 
niscence, surely  now  we  may  hope  to  prolong 
the  strain.  For,  among  the  many  who  are  still 
here  to  tell  of  their  nights  at  Burton's,  few, 
perchance,  will  revert  to  Bob  Acres  or  Gold- 
finch, Nick  Bottom  or  Autolycus ;  while  all,  at 
the  comedian's  name,  will  at  once  summon  the 
images  of  Cuttle,  Sleek,  and  Toodles. 

In  view  of  the  extraordinary  popularity  of 
these  performances,  we  shall  treat  now  of 
certain  parts  made  specially  famous  by  Mr. 
Burton,  and  present  in  another  group  a  view  of 
other  and  various  characters  in  his  comedy 
repertory. 


144  RECOLLECTIONS. 

A  favorite  part,  and  one  which  always  de- 
lighted us,  was  that  prince  of  stage  busybodies, 
Paul  Pry.  The  character  as  Poole  drew  it  af- 
fords unusual  scope  for  the  exhibition  of  comic 
power,  and  in  Burton's  hands  its  humorous 
possibilities  were  made  the  most  of.  The  play 
was  frequently  on  the  bills,  and  always  drew  a 
house  that  followed  the  comedian  through  all 
his  mirth-moving  entanglements  in  a  state  of 
hilarious  enjoyment.  The  more  we  think  of  it, 
the  more  we  are  disposed  to  class  Paul  Pry  as 
one  of  Burton's  masterpieces,  so  rich  was  it  in 
certain  phases  of  humor  and  so  replete  with 
droll  suggestiveness.  It  may  not,  perhaps,  be 
generally  known  that  Mr.  Burton  was  the  sec- 
ond comedian  who  played  the  part  in  England, 
and  it  was  a  favorite  of  the  renowned  Liston, 
whose  impersonation  of  it  won  him  fame 
and  fortune.  There  is  a  story  to  the  effect 
that  at  the  last  rehearsal  of  the  comedy,  pre- 
vious to  its  presentation  at  the  Haymarket, 
Liston  was  undecided  as  to  his  costume  ;  and 
while  on  the  stage,  still  doubtful  and  uncertain, 


RECOLLECTIONS.  145 

a  workman  entered  on  some  errand,  wearing  a 
large  pair  of  Cossack  trousers,  which,  it  being  a 
wet  day,  he  had  tucked  into  his  Wellingtons. 
The  appearance  of  the  trousers  struck  Listen, 
who  adopted  the  idea;  and  hence  the  origin  of 
the  dress  peculiar  to  Pry.  We  remember  very 
well  the  general  effect  of  Burton's  "  make-up  "  ; 
can  recall  various  details  ;  but  the  point  of  the 
trousers  is  not  clear  ;  so  a  better  memory  than 
ours  must  determine  whether  or  no  Liston's 
notion  was  perpetuated  by  his  successor. 

We  see  Burton  now,  as  he  entered  upon  the 
scene  at  Doubledot' s  inn  with :  "  Ha !  how 
d'  ye  do,  Doubledot  ?  "  and  we  hear  him  asking 
with  ingratiating  audacity  question  after  ques- 
tion, pausing  for  an  answer  after  each  one,  and 
in  no  wise  put  out  at  getting  none, — "never 
miss  any  thing  for  the  want  of  asking,  you 
know."  Then  his  lingering  departure,  and 
Doubledot' 's  fervent :  "  I  Ve  got  rid  of  him 
at  last,  thank  heaven  !  "  No,  he  returns.  "  I 
dropped  one  of  my  gloves "  (looking  about). 
Doubledot  waxes  impatient  and  speaks  his  mind. 


146  RECOLLECTIONS. 

11  Mr.  Doubledot,"  said  Burton,  swelling  with 
insulted  dignity,  "  I  want  my  property ;  I  want 
my  property,  sir.  When  I  came  in  here  I  had 
two  gloves,  and  now — ah — that  's  very  odd  ; 
I  Ve  got  it  in  my  hand  all  this  time !  "  (hasty 
exit).  How  little  it  seems  in  the  telling.  The 
air  of  anxiety  on  returning,  and  the  eye-glass 
brought  into  play ;  the  look  of  injured  inno- 
cence, the  indignant  assertion,  and  then  the 
sudden  collapse — cannot  be  reproduced  in 
words. 

The  piece  is  full  of  diverting  situations,  but 
nothing  was  more  natural  than  that  Burton 
should  improve  on  and  add  to  them.  His 
bright  instinct  kindled  the  dry  fagots  of  a 
scene  till  they  fairly  crackled  with  merriment. 
Certain  "  business,"  humorous  amplification 
of  dialogue,  a  diffusion  of  comic  incident,  that 
we  vividly  recall,  are  not  to  be  found  in  the 
printed  "  Paul  Pry  "  ;  and  the  conclusion  of 
the  second  act,  especially,  where  the  pistols 
are  used  with  such  ludicrous  effect,  all  that 
was  Burton's  own.  The  pistols  lay  on  the 


RECOLLECTIONS. 

table,  left  there  by  CoL  Hardy,  and  Pry  is 
alone.  Burton  took  them  up,  one  in  each 
hand.  He  regarded  the  weapons  fixedly. 
Then,  with  solemn  enunciation :  "  I  never 
fought  a  duel ;  but  if  I  was  called  out,"  ex- 
tending an  arm,  "  I  say  if  I  was  called  out  " — 
bang !  went  one  of  the  pistols,  and  down 
dropped  Burton,  the  picture  of  fright,  when 
bang !  went  the  other,  and  the  curtain  fell  on 
the  comedian  sitting  in  abject  terror,  a  smok- 
ing pistol  in  each  hand,  gazing  in  every  direction 
for  succor,  and  wildly  ejaculating  "  Murder  !  " 
Then,  at  the  close  of  the  play,  when  Pry  re- 
minds Col.  Hardy  that,  thanks  to  him  (Pry), 
things,  after  all,  have  resulted  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  everybody,  the  Colonel  relaxes  his 
sternness  somewhat  and  says  :  "  Well,  I  will 
tolerate  you  ;  you  shall  dine  with  me  to-day." 
"  Colonel,"  replied  Burton,  with  airy  condescen- 
sion, "  I  '11  dine  with  you  every  day." 

It  was  a  rare  pleasure  to  see  Placide  and 
Burton  in  their  respective  parts ;  and  as  once 
again  we  think  of  them  the  Chambers  Street 


148  RECOLLECTIONS. 

stage  is  before  us,  and  the  garden  scene  ;  and 
we  see  Col.  Hardy  place  the  ladder  against  the 
wall,  mount  it  and  peer  cautiously  over,  and 
then  hastily  descend,  saying :  "  I  have  him  ; 
there  he  is,  crouching  on  the  ground  with  his 
eye  at  the  key-hole  ";  see  him  quietly  approach 
the  gate,  suddenly  open  it,  and  once  again  as  of 
old,  Burton  tumbles  in,  umbrella  and  all,  with 
"  How  are  you,  Colonel !  I  Ve  just  dropped  in  !  " 

He  will  never  more  drop  in  for  us,  nor  does 
it  seem  likely  that  in  our  day  another  Paul  Pry 
will  appear.  The  play  may  have  been  per- 
formed in  New  York  since  the  comedian's 
death,  and  we  seem  dimly  to  remember  that  it 
was  ;  but  we  have  no  recollection  beyond  the 
simple  circumstance.  We  feel  sure,  however, 
that  public  interest  in  it  ceased  with  the  de- 
parture of  its  last  great  representative ;  and 
equally  sure  that  in  the  memory  of  those  who 
saw  it,  Burton's  Paul  Pry  remains  a  famous 
creation  of  delightful  humor. 

What  shall  we  say  of  Captain  Cuttle  ?  How 
many  readers  and  lovers  of  Dickens  thronged 


RECOLLECTIONS.  149 

the  theatre  in  the  old  days  to  witness  that 
wonderful  reproduction  ?  and  how  many  to 
whom  Dickens  was  but  a  name  were  led  by  the 
impersonation  to  study  the  pages  of  the  great 
novelist  ?  It  is  certain  that  Burton  by  his 
sympathetic  and  admirable  portrayal  awakened 
a  fresh  interest  in  the  enchanting  story,  so 
potent  to  excite  intellectual  pursuit  is  fine  and 
sagacious  interpretation.  "  Dombey  and  Son  " 
was  one  of  the  great  triumphs  of  the  Chambers 
Street  Theatre,  and  not  to  have  seen  it  consti- 
tuted an  offence  against  public  sentiment 
utterly  without  palliation.  That  it  was  Charles 
Dickens  dramatized  by  John  Brougham  was 
enough  of  itself  to  claim  respectful  attention ; 
and  when  Burton  added  the  crowning  effect  of 
his  acting  of  Cuttle,  then  indeed  was  the 
dramatic  feast  complete.  Nothing  could  be 
clearer  than  that  the  comedian  had  made  care- 
ful and  conscientious  study  of  his  author,  and 
nothing  surer  than  that  the  portrait  was  coTn- 
ceived  in  an  appreciative  and  loving  spirit.  If 
those  familiar  with  the  character  as  depicted 


1 50  RECOLLECTIONS. 

by  Dickens  discerned  at  times  certain  felicitous 
touches  in  Burton's  delineation  which  sug- 
gested an  originality  of  method  and  treatment, 
the  points  were  due,  we  think,  to  the  genius  of 
the  novelist  acting  upon  the  actor's  imagina- 
tion, and  kindling  it  to  the  expression  of  cog- 
nate verisimilitude. 

What  a  memory  it  is  to  linger  on  !  How 
the  form  comes  back,  clad  in  the  white  suit ; 
the  high  collar,  like  a  small  sail,  and  the  black 
silk  handkerchief  with  flaring  ends  loosely 
encircling  it ;  the  head  bald  at  top,  a  shining 
pathway  between  the  bristling  hair  on  each 
side ;  the  bushy  eyebrows  arching  the  reveren- 
tial eyes  ;  the  knob-environed  nose  ;  the  waist- 
coat with  buttons  innumerable  ;  the  glazed 
hat  under  his  left  arm ;  the  hook  gravely 
extended  at  the  end  of  his  right.  "  May  we 
never  want  a  friend  in  need,  or  a  bottle  to  give 
him  !  Overhaul  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon,  and 
when  found  make  a  note  of,"  we  hear  him 
saying ;  and  then  we  follow  him  through  those 
inimitable  scenes  which  cannot  be  easily  for- 


RECOLLECTIONS.  1 5  I 

gotten  by  those  who  witnessed  them.  The 
scene  where  he  cheers  up  Florence,  and  makes 
such  dexterous  play  with  his  hook,  adjusting 
her  bonnet  and  manipulating  the  tea — and  yet 
exhibiting  a  simple  and  natural  pathos  with  it 
all ;  where  he  sits  in  admiring  contemplation 
of  Bunsby,  while  that  oracular  tar  delivers  his 
celebrated  opinion  respecting  the  fate  of  the 
vessel,  with  the  memorable  addendum  :  "  The 
bearings  of  this  observation  lays  in  the  appli- 
cation on  it  "  ;  the  scene  with  the  MacStingers, 
and  the  Captain  s  despair ;  the  timely  inter- 
vention of  Bunsby ;  the  despair  changed  to 
wondering  awe  ;  and  then  all  the  suggestive 
by-play  consequent  upon  his  delivery  by 
Bunsby  from  the  impending  MacStinger  ven- 
geance ; — all  this,  and  much  more  than  we  can 
describe,  passes  by  like  a  panorama  in  memory. 
Burton's  Captain  Cuttle  occupies  a  conspicuous 
place  in  the  gallery  of  famous  dramatic  pic- 
tures, and  there  it  will  long  remain.1  As  we 

1  Ireland,  in  referring  to  certain  qualities  of  Burton's  act- 
ing, says  :  "  While  in  homely  pathos,  and  the  earnest  expres- 


I$2  RECOLLECTIONS. 

think  of  it  in  all  the  details  which  made  it  so 
perfect  an  embodiment,  it  seems  a  pity  that 
Dickens  himself  never  saw  it.  We  can  fancy 
that  had  he  chanced  to  be  in  New  York  when 
lt  Dombey  and  Son  "  was  the  theatrical  sensa- 
tion, and  had  dropped  in  at  Chambers  Street, 
an  auditor  all  unknown,  he  would  have  made 
his  way  behind  the  scenes,  and  to  Burton's 
dressing-room,  and  with  both  hands  would 
have  grasped  the  comedian's  hook  and  enthusi- 
astically shaken  it. 

"  The  Serious  Family  "  and  "The  Toodles  " ! 
What  memories  of  joyous,  laughing  hours  the 
names  awaken  !  Never,  we  venture  to  say, 
were  playhouse  audiences  regaled  with  so 
surpassing  a  feast  of  mirth  as  that  spread  by 
Burton  in  his  performance  of  those  renowned 
specialities — Aminadab  Sleek  and  Timothy  Too- 
dles. No  comedian,  we  believe,  of  whom  we 

sion  of  blunt,  uncultivated  feeling,  he  has  rarely  been  excelled. 
His  grief  at  the  supposed  death  of  Walter  Gay,  or  poor  Wally, 
as  Captain  Cuttle  affectionately  called  him,  was  one  of  the 
most  touching  bits  of  acting  ever  witnessed,  and  has  wrung 
tears  from  many  an  unwilling  eye." 


RE COLLE C TIONS.  I  5  3 

have  any  record,  excelled  those  efforts  in 
variety  of  mimetic  effect,  facial  expression, 
and  display  of  comic  power.  That  in  them 
the  extreme  limit  of  humorous  demonstration 
was  reached,  the  public  generally  acknowl- 
edged. The  two  plays  had  their  regular 
nights,  and  thousands  flocked,  week  after 
week,'  to  the  banquet  of  jollity,  all  unsatisfied, 
though  again  and  again  they  had  revelled 
there.  No  greater  contrast  could  be  offered 
an  audience  than  that  presented  by  the  two 
pieces  of  acting.  The  sanctimonious  and 
lugubrious  Sleek;  the  effusive  and  rubicund 
Toodles  !  Coming  one  after  the  other,  in  every 
way  so  different,  the  instance  of  versatility 
made  a  deep  impression,  and  prompted  a 
thought  on  the  flexibility  of  human  genius. 
We  are  reminded  at  this  moment  of  an  inci- 
dent which  occurred  one  evening  in  connection 
with  "  The  Serious  Family,"  which  added  an 
unexpected  feature  to  the  entertainment. 
Burton  did  not  appear  in  the  first  piece,  and 
the  audience,  eager  for  Aminadab,  were  glad 


1 54  RECOLLECTIONS. 

when  the  orchestra  ceased.  But  the  prompter's 
bell  did  not  tinkle.  After  a  pause  the  orches- 
tra played  again,  and  again  finished.  Still  no 
bell.  Signs  of  impatience  began,  and  as  the 
delay  continued  the  hubbub  increased.  An 
attempt  on  the  part  of  the  musicians  to  fill 
the  gap  was  received  with  evident  displeasure. 
At  last,  when  nearly  half  an  hour  had  elapsed, 
the  bell  sounded,  and  the  curtain  rose  on  the 
familiar  group  of  Sleek,  Lady  Creamly,  and 
Mrs.  Torrens.  Applause  broke  out  all  over 
the  house  ;  but  with  it  were  mingled  a  few 
ill-humored  hisses.  Burton  left  his  place  at 
the  table  and  came  forward  to  the  foot-lights. 
There  he  stood  in  the  well-known  suit  of 
pepper  and  salt,  the  straight  gray  hair  framing 
the  solemn  visage  of  Sleek.  Then,  in  his  own 
proper  voice,  he  explained  the  cause  of  the 
delay — a  mishap  of  travel, — expressed  his 
regret,  and  begged  the  indulgence  of  the 
audience.  A  storm  of  approval  followed  his 
speech,  in  the  midst  of  which  he  resumed  his 
place,  instantly  assuming  his  character;  and 


m 


MR.  BURTON  AS  AMINADAB  SLEEK. 


RECOLLECTIONS.  1 5  5 

as  the  applause  died  away  another  voice  suc- 
ceeded, the  voice  of  Sleek,  in  nasal  tone,  say- 
ing :  "  We  appeal  to  the  disciples  of  true 
benevolence,  and  the  doers  of  good  deeds, 
without  distinction  of  politics  or  party,"  etc. 
The  effect  of  the  transition  was  irresistible  ; 
and  the  loss  of  time  was  forgotten  in  the  gain 
of  a  new  delight.  And  now  another  story  of 
"  The  Serious  Family  "  comes  to  mind,  and  it 
is  too  good  to  be  lost.  Playing  in  Atlanta, 
Georgia,  he  found  a  wretched  theatre,  without 
appointments  or  properties.  At  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  overture  the  prompter  ran  to 
Burton  with  the  announcement  that  there 
was  no  bell  to  ring  up  the  curtain.  "  Good 
gracious,  what  a  place  !  Here,  my  lad,"  he 
said  to  a  little  fellow  who  acted  as  call-boy, 
"  run  out  and  get  us  a  bell — any  thing  will  do 
— a  cow  bell,  if  you  can't  get  any  thing  better." 
Away  went  the  boy,  the  orchestra  vainly  en- 
deavoring to  quiet  the  audience  with  popular 
airs.  Back  came  the  boy,  pale  and  breathless, 
gasping  out :  "  There  ain't  a  bell  in  the  whole 
town,  sir !  " 


156  RE  COLLE  C  TIONS. 

"What  's  to  be  done  now?"  asked  the 
prompter. 

"  Shake  the  thunder  !  "  No  sooner  said  than 
done.  Up  went  the  curtain,  and  "  The  Serious 
Family  "  commenced  amidst  the  most  terrific 
peal  heard  in  that  theatre  for  many  a  year. 

It  goes  without  saying  that  Burton's  Sleek 
and  Toodles,  especially  the  latter,  though 
founded  on  another's  outlines,  were  so  built 
upon  and  humorously  amplified,  that  in  divert- 
ing dramatic  effect  they  were  clearly  his  own 
creations,  and  owed  their  importance  to  the 
impress  of  the  actor's  transforming  power. 
When  we  read  "  The  Serious  Family  "  as  writ- 
ten by  Morris  Barnett,  clever  though  it  be,  we 
see  at  once  where  the  author  ends  and  the 
actor  begins  ;  and  as  for  "  The  Toodles,"  it  is 
sufficient  to  say  that  the  Timothy  Toodles  of 
Burton  was  never  dreamed  of  by  the  play- 
wright. 

How  shall  we  describe  to  those  who  were 
born  too  late  to  witness  them,  these  famous 
performances  of  the  great  comedian  ?  We  feel 


RECOLLECTIONS.  1 5  7 

that  all  description  must  fail  in  giving  any  idea 
of  the  infinite  variety  and  scope  of  comic 
humor  they  exhibited.  We  might,  indeed,  for 
they  are  vivid  in  remembrance,  take  our  read- 
ers through  the  many  scenes,  and  show  them 
Sleek,  from  the  entrance  of  Captain  Maguire,  in 
the  first  act,  to  Burton's  enraged  exit  in  the 
last ;  picturing,  as  we  go,  the  situations  without 
parallel  in  droll  device  and  mirth-moving  compli- 
cation ;  show  them  Toodles,  from  his  arraign- 
ment of  Mrs.  Toodles  for  her  multifarious  and 
preposterous  bargains,  not  forgetting  the  door- 
plate  of  Thompson — Thompson  with  a  / — nor 
uhe  had  a  brother," — to  his  inimitable  tipsy 
scene  and  the  memorable  soliloquy,  ''That 
man  reminds  me  "  ; — but,  however  exhaustive 
the  relation  in  words,  after  all  was  said,  we 
should  still  hopelessly  leave  the  effect  to  be 
guessed  at  with  the  help  of  imagination. 

We  have  thus  endeavored  to  give  impres- 
sions from  memory  of  certain  parts  in  which 
Burton  was  specially  famous ;  and  they  seem 
to  us,  on  account  of  their  versatility  and  range 


1 5  8  RECOLLECTIONS. 

of  humorous  spirit,  to  be  conspicuous  ex- 
amples of  that  varied  power  which  led  us  to 
style  the  comedian  an  expounder  of  the  Humor 
of  the  Drama  in  all  its  aspects.  If  the  sojourn 
on  earth  of  old  Robert  Burton  was  intended  to 
give  the  world  an  "Anatomy  of  Melancholy," 
surely  the  mission  of  the  later  Burton  was  to 
lay  bare  the  whole  body  of  mirth. 

MR.  BURTON  IN  COMEDY  AND  SHAKESPEARE. 

As  we  think  of  the  many  parts  in  which  it 
was  our  good  fortune  to  see  Mr.  Burton,  we 
are  led  into  a  reflection  on  the  surprising  ver- 
satility displayed  by  them ;  and  we  question 
whether  the  record  of  any  comedian  embraces 
a  repertory  so  extensive,  so  varied,  and  so  dis- 
tinguished for  general  ability.  The  perform- 
ances we  are  about  to  recall,  though  exhibiting 
many  humorous  features  in  common,  were  each 
a  distinct  conception  ;  and  the  execution  of 
each  was  a  dramatic  portrait  by  itself,  artistic 
in  measure,  faithful  in  delineation,  and  felici- 
tous in  the  expression  of  points  of  character. 


RECOLLECTIONS,  1 59 

The  Burtonian  element — in  the  shape  of  by- 
play, gesture,  accent,  facial  device,  mimetic 
effect — was  visible  in  the  composition,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  contributing  to  the  picture's 
expansion,  deepening  its  tints  and  emphasizing 
its  characteristics, — added  touches  that  were 
the  actor's  stamp  and  sign-manual.  We  have 
cited  Sleek  and  Toodles  as  strongly  contrasting 
parts,  and  so  indeed  they  were  ;  but  we  might 
easily  adduce  instances  of  versatility  quite  as 
striking,  and  would  do  so  were  it  not  more 
than  likely  that  they  will  appear  to  our  readers 
as  our  memories  progress.  It  is  said  that  the 
celebrated  William  Farren  used  to  style  him- 
self a  "  cock  salmon,"  the  only  fish  of  his  kind 
in  the  market ;  and  if  unique  dramatic  distinc- 
tion lies  in  that  piscatorial  image,  most  as- 
suredly Mr.  Burton  was  a  cock  salmon  of  the 
first  water. 

We  cannot  hope  to  remember  every  thing 
we  saw  Mr.  Burton  play,  yet  we  think  our 
recollection  will  embrace  a  fair  array  of  those 
characters  in  comedy  and  divers  pieces  which 


l6o  RECOLLECTIONS. 

he  alone  in  his  generation  seemed  adequately 
to  fill,  and  which  were  such  a  boon  of  delight 
to  the  audiences  of  long  ago. 

There  was  his  Micawber,  in  the  dramatiza- 
tion of  "  David  Copperfield,"  which  succeeded 
"  Dombey  and  Son/' — equal  to  if  not  sur- 
passing his  Cuttle  ;  an  inimitable  reproduction 
of  the  novelist's  creation,  full  of  humorous 
point,  and  sustained  with  an  indescribable  airy 
complacence  and  bland  assumption  of  resource, 
that  made  it  a  perfect  treat  to  lovers  of  Dick- 
ens ;  and  those  who  saw  "  David  Copperfield  " 
may  well  rejoice,  for  they  hold  in  memory 
Burton's  Micawber,  Johnston's  Uriah  Heep, 
and  Mrs.  Hughes'  Betsy  Trotwood  ! 

There  was  Bumble,  the  beadle,  in  "Oliver 
Twist,"  a  very  funny  piece  of  acting,  and 
especially  so  in  the  well-known  scene  with  Mrs. 
Corney,  where,  in  excess  of  tenderness,  he  tells 
her  that  "any  cat,  or  kitten,  that  could  live 
with  you  ma'am,  and  not  be  fond  of  its  home, 
must  be  a  ass  ma'am."  And  then  when  the 
matron  is  called  away  and  the  beadle  remains, 


RECOLLEC  TIONS.  1 6 1 

his  proceedings  are  described  by  Dickens  thus : 
"  Mr.  Bumble's  conduct  on  being  left  to  him- 
self was  rather  inexplicable.  He  opened  the 
closet,  counted  the  teaspoons,  weighed  the 
sugar-tongs,  closely  inspected  the  silver  milk- 
pot  to  ascertain  that  it  was  of  the  genuine 
metal,  and,  having  satisfied  his  curiosity  on 
these  points,  put  on  his  cocked  hat  cornerwise, 
and  danced  with  much  gravity  four  distinct 
times  round  the  table.  Having  gone  through 
this  very  extraordinary  performance,  he  took 
off  the  cocked  hat  again,  and  spreading  him- 
self before  the  fire  with  his  back  toward  it, 
seemed  to  be  mentally  engaged  in  taking  an 
exact  inventory  of  the  furniture."  We  deem 
it  enough  to  say  that  Mr.  Burton's  management 
of  the  foregoing  "  business  "  left  nothing  to  be 
desired. 

We  may  note,  in  the  mention  of  "  Oliver 
Twist,"  that  Nancy  Sykes  was  played  by  the 
late  Fanny  Wallack,  with  a  fidelity  of  purpose 
and  a  pathetic  abandon  that  made  it  painful  to 
witness. 


1 62  RECOLLECTIONS. 

To  continue  with  Dickens :  there  were 
Squeers  and  Sam  Welter,  both  capital  in  their 
way — the  last,  however,  lacking,  as  it  seemed 
to  us,  in  true  Wellerian  flavor ;  but  the  Squeers 
was  marked  by  an  appreciative  recognition  of 
the  schoolmaster's  grim  traits  ;  and  the  scene  at 
Dotheboys  Hall  was  admirably  given  ;  Mrs. 
Hughes,  as  Mrs.  Squeers,  "  made  up  "  to  the 
life,  and  irresistible  in  her  distribution  of  the 
treacle. 

All  these  portraits  from  the  pages  of  Dickens 
were  so  many  meritorious  presentments  of  the 
novelist's  creations,  and  would  have  won  endur- 
ing fame  for  an  actor  of  smaller  calibre ;  the 
truth  is,  in  Mr,  Burton's  case,  that  his  Bumble, 
Squeers,  and  Weller  were  but  dimly  seen,  owing 
to  the  greater  glory  of  his  Cuttle  and  Mi- 
cawber. 

We  saw  Mr.  Burton  as  Bob  Acres,  in  "  The 
Rivals  "  ;  as  Tony  Lumpkin,  in  "  She  Stoops  to 
Conquer";  as  Goldfinch,  in  "  The  Road  to 
Ruin "  ;  as  Doctor  Ollapod,  in  "  The  Poor 
Gentleman  "  ;  as  Sir  George  Thunder,  in  "  Wild 


RECOLLECTIONS.  163 

Oats  "  ;  as  Job  Thornberry,  in  "  John  Bull  "  ;  as 
Sir  Oliver  Surface,  in  "  The  School  for  Scan- 
dal ";  as  Graves,  in  Bulwer's  "Money";  as 
the  Mock  Duke,  in  "  The  Honeymoon "  ;  as 
Adam  Brock,  in  "  Charles  XII. "  ;  as  Van 
Dunder,  in  "  The  Dutch  Governor  "  ;  as  John 
Smith,  in  "  Nature's  Nobleman  "  ;  as  Mr.  Sud- 
den, in  "  The  Breach  of  Promise  "  ;  as  Thomas 
Trot,  in  "  Paris  and  London  "  ;  as  Don  Ferolo 
Whiskerandos,  in  "  The  Critic  "  of  Sheridan  ; 
as  Triplet,  in  "  Masks  and  Faces  "  ; — certainly  a 
gallery  of  dramatic  portraits  that  would  put 
to  the  test  the  highest  order  of  ability ;  and 
we  feel  bound  to  say  that  Burton  passed  the 
ordeal  well  deserving  the  encomiums  that  were 
bestowed  upon  his  efforts.  It  would  be  too 
much  to  expect  that  all  these  delineations  were 
even  in  points  of  conception  and  execution  ; 
yet  all  were  entitled  to  respectful  considera- 
tion, and  many  were  masterpieces.  We  will 
endeavor  to  go  through  them  briefly,  in  remem- 
brance of  the  happy  hours  we  owe  to  their  joy- 
ous influence. 


1 64  RECOLLECTIONS. 

The  recent  appearance  of  Jefferson  as  Bob 
Acres  has  aroused  a  new  interest  in  the  charac- 
ter, and  from  all  accounts  the  performance 
was  more  than  equal  to  expectation,  and  has 
enhanced  the  reputation  of  the  comedian.  We 
hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son in  due  time,  and  we  fancy  that  his  acting 
of  Acres  would  refresh  somewhat  our  recollec- 
tion of  Burton  in  the  part.  As  it  is,  however, 
we  cannot  vouch  for  a  clear  memory  of  Burton's 
Acres.  We  saw  it  but  once,  and  then  early  in 
life,  when  we  were  new  to  the  theatre ;  and  all 
we  seem  to  remember  is  that  he  was  very 
funny  with  his  curl  papers,  and  his  "  referen- 
tial or  allegorical  swearing,"  and  that  the  duel 
scene  was  very  amusing.  It  was  the  opinion  of 
Hazlitt  that  Sheridan  overdid  the  part,  and 
accordingly  he  goes  on  to  say :  *'  It  calls  for 
a  greater  effort  of  animal  spirits  and  a  peculiar 
aptitude  of  genius  in  the  actor  to  go  through 
with  it,  to  humor  the  extravagance,  and  to 
seem  to  take  a  real  and  cordial  delight  in 
caricaturing  himself."  This  criticism  is  not 


RECOLLECTIONS.  165 

without  force ;  but  whatever  may  have  been 
Burton's  conception,  we  are  certain  that  a 
bright  intelligence  informed  it,  and  that  in  the 
portrayal  a  requisite  display  of  "  animal  spirits  " 
was  not  lacking.  If,  among  the  audience  that 
greeted  Jefferson,  there  chanced  to  be  any  old 
play-goers  of  tenacious  memory  who  had  seen 
Burton,  let  us  hope  that  they  improved  the 
occasion  by  pleasant  reminiscence. 

Tony  Lumpkin  was  a  very  comic  piece 
of  acting,  and  made  the  people  laugh  im- 
moderately ;  but  we  confess  that  the  character 
has  little  charm  for  us.  Burton  used  to  sing 
the  song  of  "The  Three  Jolly  Pigeons  "  (in 
the  ale-house  scene)  with  more  expression  than 
melody ;  but  he  threw  into  it  a  great  deal  of 
frolic  spirit  and  made  it  quite  a  feature. 

In  our  youthful  days,  when  witnessing  "  The 
Road  to  Ruin,"  we  knew  very  well  the  moment 
when  we  should  hear  the  voice  of  Goldfinch 
outside ;  and  we  remember  his  bustling  en- 
trance, in  sporting  frock,  buff  waiscoat,  and 
top  boots,  whip  in  hand,  and  his  rattling  flow 


1 66  RECOLLECTIONS. 

of  horse-talk  ;  his  strut  and  his  "  that  's  your 
sort !  "  It  is  said  that  Lewis,  of  Covent  Gar- 
den, (the  original  Goldfinch^)  "  gave  to  that 
catch-phrase  a  variety  of  intonation  which  made 
it  always  new  and  effective  "  ;  and  Burton  cer- 
tainly played  upon  it  adroitly.  His  delivery 
of  the  text  was  full  of  point  and  animation, 
and  his  articulation  admirable.  "Why,  you 
are  a  high  fellow,  Charles,"  says  Harry  Dorn- 
ton.  "  To  be  sure  !  "  replies  Goldfinch,  "  know 
the  odds — hold  four-in-hand — turn  a  corner  in 
style — reins  in  form — elbows  square — wrist 
pliant — hayait ! — drive  the  Coventry  stage  twice 
a  week  all  summer — pay  for  an  inside  place — 
mount  the  box — tip  the  coachy  a  crown — beat 
the  mail — come  in  full  speed — rattle  down  the 
gateway — take  care  of  your  heads  ! — never 
killed  but  one  woman  and  a  child  in  all  my 
life — that  's  your  sort !  "  We  hear  Burton's 
voice,  we  see  his  face  and  his  gestures  now ! 

We  were  always  fond  of  Colman's  "  Poor 
Gentleman,"  and  we  took  great  delight  in 
seeing  Burton  as  Doctor  Ollapod.  As  all  know, 


RE  COLLECTIONS.  1 67 

the  character  affords  wide  scope  for  diverting 
treatment.  The  incidents  are  many  and  droll 
— and  we  think  Burton  turned  every  thing  to 
the  best  account.  Henry  Placide  played  the 
part  more  artistically  ;  but  it  was  not  possible 
for  him  to  expound  its  humorous  nature  with 
the  richness  that  came  easily  to  Burton.  We 
never  think  of  Colman's  comedy  without  a 
feeling  of  grateful  pleasure  ;  for  its  representa- 
tion at  various  times  gave  us  Burton  and 
Placide  as  Ollapod ;  Burton  as  Sir  Robert 
Bramble  ;  Dyott,  as  Worthington  ;  Mrs.  Hughes 
as  Lucretia  Me  Tab  ;  and  Johnston  as  Humph- 
rey Dobbins. 

We  have  referred  in  another  place  to  Sir 
George  Thunder  and  Job  Thornberry ;  and  we 
need  not  dwell  upon  them  further  than  to  say 
that  both  gave  glimpses  of  that  versatile  power 
to  which  we  have  alluded,  and  both  were  full 
of  the  comedian's  characteristic  ability. 

We  suppose  that  Sir  Oliver  Surface  would 
not  be  deemed  a  part  exactly  in  Mr.  Burton's 
"  line  " ;  and  yet,  as  we  remember  it,  he  in- 


1 68  RECOLLECTIONS. 

vested  the  character  with  a  simple  dignity,  and 
played  it  with  manly  directness  and  feeling. 

Our  memory  of  Mr.  Graves  and  the  Mock 
Duke  is  dim  and  distant ;  but  if  our  readers 
desire  another  example  of  versatility,  we 
commend  the  two  parts  as  furnishing  a  most 
conspicuous  instance. 

We  have  never  seen  "  Charles  XII."  and 
"  The  Dutch  Governor  "  since  we  saw  Burton 
as  Adam  Brock  and  Van  Dunder ;  .but  we 
assure  the  play-goers  of  to-day  that  the  dramas 
were  well  worth  seeing  long  ago  when  Listen 
played  in  them,  and  equally  so  when  his  great 
successor  appeared  in  them  at  a  later  period. 
Burton  rarely  played  Adam  Brock,  and  we 
cannot  remember  seeing  it  more  than  once, 
when  it  impressed  us  greatly.  "  The  Dutch 
Governor,"  on  the  contrary,  was  a  favorite 
attraction  at  the  Chambers  Street  Theatre, 
and  Burton's  Van  Dunder  was  a  rich  feast  of 
mirthful  enjoyment. 

Pardey's  "  Nature's  Nobleman,"  purporting 
to  be  an  American  comedy,  was  first  produced 


RECOLLECTIONS.  169 

at  Burton's  in  1851.     The  prologue,  which  was 
spoken  by  the  manager,  contained  these  lines : 

"  The  drama  languishes.     Let  us  detect — 
Polonius-like — the  cause  of  this  defect  ! 
'T  is  certain  that  the  sprightliest  tongue  must  fail 
To  win  attention  to  an  '  oft-told  tale.' 
We  cannot,  ever,  with  '  crook'd  Richard  '  fight, 
Or  weep  with  Desdemona  every  night  ; 
And  even  cloying  is  the  luscious  sack, 
If  we  too  often  sip  with  '  burly  Jack  '  ; 
Nor,  every  week,  will  people  take  the  trouble 
To  witness  Hecate's  cauldron  hiss  and  bubble  ; 
Nor  can  we,  as  we  have  done,  hope  to  draw 
Still  on  the  Rivals  or  the  Heir-at-Law. 
We  've  seen  shy  '  Jack  '  his  father's  anger  rouse  ; 
We  Ve  heard  Lord  Dowlas  '  tutored  '  by  his  spouse. 
Old  English  comedy  should  now  give  way  ; 
It  has,  like  Acres'  '  dammes,'  had  its  day. 
Hang  up  bag  wigs — our  study  now  should  be 
The  men  and  the  moustachios  that  we  see. 
Let  us  some  pictures  of  the  time  provide  ; 
Let  the  pen  practically  be  applied." 

Whether  or  no  the  comedy  gave  us  "  the 
men  and  the  moustachios  that  we  see,"  or  pro- 
vided "  some  pictures  of  the  time,"  we  shall 
not  pretend  to  say  ; — one  would  think  so,  since 
Blake,  Burton,  Bland,  Dyott,  Mrs.  Hughes, 
Mary  Taylor,  Miss  Weston,  and  Caroline  Chap- 


170  RECOLLECTIONS. 

man  were  in  the  cast, — but,  at  all  events,  it 
gave  us  Burton's  John  Smith,  which  was  well 
worth  a  journey  to  see.  John  Smith  is  "  gentle- 
man "  to  the  Earl  of  Leamington  (Dyott),  who 
is  making  an  American  tour.  The  Earl  gives 
his  attendant  a  two-months'  holiday  to  enjoy 
himself ;  and  Smith,  having  dressed  within  an 
inch  of  his  life,  is  taken  for  the  Earl,  and  yields 
to  the  temptation  to  pass  himself  off  as  such. 
Out  of  this  complication  arise  situations  ludi- 
crous in  the  extreme,  through  which  Burton 
moved,  the  dispenser  of  mirth  without  end. 
His  "  make-up,"  his  air,  his  self-sufficiency,  his 
ignorance, — of  which  he  is  grotesquely  uncon- 
scious,— his  blundering  malapropos  speeches, 
his  frequent  social  collapses  and  absurd  at- 
tempts at  recovery,  his  facial  expression  at 
mental  mishap  and  irresistible  by-play  conse- 
quent, his  constant  display  of  mimetic  power, 
his  voice,  look,  manner, — all  together  made  a 
picture  of  varied  humor,  which  kept  the  house 
in  hearty  laughter  from  his  entrance  to  the 
curtain's  fall. 


RECOLLECTIONS,  \J\ 

Mr.  Sudden,  in  Buckstone's  **  Breach  of 
Promise,"  was  still  another  of  those  peculiar 
parts  upon  which  Burton  lavished  his  supreme 
gift  of  humor;  and  we  owe  to  its  diverting  ex- 
position many  a  gladsome  hour. 

Funny,  too,  beyond  measure,  were  Thomas 
Trot  and  Don  Whisker ando s ;  we  see  the  first 
in  the  many  comic  incidents  during  the  voyage 
from  Paris  to  London ;  and  we  see  Don  Whisk- 
erandos  "  quit  this  bustling  scene"  by  rolling 
himself  with  marvellous  celerity  out  of  sight 
in  the  folds  of  the  stage  carpet. 

We  have  reached  the  end  of  our  string,  with 
the  exception  of  Triplet,  and  should  love  to 
linger  in  description  on  the  blended  humor 
and  pathos  of  the  impersonation.  Let  it  suffice 
that  not  even  Mr.  Fisher's  admirable  present- 
ment can  dim  the  recollection  of  Burton's 
masterly  delineation. 

And  now  let  us  in  our  remaining  space  recall 
our  memories  of  the  Shakespearian  parts  in 
which  we  saw  the  great  actor. 

"A    Midsummer-Night's    Dream"  was  pro- 


1/2  RECOLLECTIONS. 

duced  at  Burton's  in  1854,  and  the  manager 
played  Bottom.  We  well  remember  with  what 
delight  the  play  was  received,  and  what  a 
marked  sensation  was  created  by  the  scenery 
and  stage  effect.  The  public  wondered  how  so 
much  could  be  presented  on  so  small  a  stage, 
and  its  accomplishment  was  a  theme  of  general 
admiration.  The  fairy  element  was  made  a 
beautiful  feature,  and  the  spirit  of  poetry 
brooded  over  the  whole  production.  The 
unanimity  of  the  press  in  its  encomiums  on  the 
revival  was  remarkable  ;  and  no  more  emphatic 
recognition  of  Burton's  appreciation  and  knowl- 
edge of  Shakespeare  could  be  given  than  was 
expressed  in  that  approving  accord. 

As  we  think  of  it  now,  it  seems  to  us  that 
Burton's  idea  of  Bottom  was  the  true  one,  and 
we  enjoyed  the  performance  immensely.  It  is 
very  easy  to  make  the  character  a  sort  of  buf- 
foon ;  but  nothing,  of  course,  was  further  than 
that  notion  from  Burton's  conception.  Mr. 
Richard  Grant  White  gives,  in  his  "Shake- 
speare's Scholar,"  an  admirable  analysis  of 


RECOLLECTIONS.  173 

Bottom  s  characteristics,  and  at  the  close 
remarks :  "  As  Mr.  Burton  renders  the  char- 
acter, its  traits  are  brought  out  with  a 
delicate  and  masterly  hand ;  its  humor  is  ex- 
quisite." We  remember  his  acting  in  the  scene 
where  the  artisans  meet  for  the  distribution  of 
parts  in  the  play  to  be  given  before  the  Duke ; 
— how  striking  it  was  in  sustained  individuality, 
and  how  finely  exemplified  was  the  potential 
vanity  of  Bottom.  With  what  ingrained  assur- 
ance he  exclaimed :  "  Let  me  play  the  lion  too  ; 
I  will  roar,  that  it  will  do  any  man's  heart  good 
to  hear  me ;  I  will  roar,  that  I  will  make  the 
duke  say,  Let  him  roar  again,  let  him  roar 
again  !  "  He  was  capital,  too,  in  the  scene  of 
the  rehearsal,  and  in  his  translation ;  and  the 
love  scene  with  Titania  aroused  lively  interest. 
What  pleased  us  greatly  was  the  vein  of  enga- 
ging raillery  which  ran  through  his  delivery  of 
the  speeches  to  the  fairies,  Cobweb,  Peas-blossom, 
and  Mustard-seed.  It  goes  without  saying,  that 
as  Pyramus  in  the  tragedy  Burton  created 
unbounded  amusement,  and  discharged  the 


1/4  RECOLLECTIONS. 

arduous  part  of  the  ill-starred  lover  with  entire 
satisfaction  to  everybody. 

Sir  Toby  Belch,  in  "  Twelfth  Night,"  was  one 
of  Burton's  richest  performances,  and  we  re- 
member it  with  the  greatest  pleasure.  It  was 
characterized  by  true  Shakespearian  spirit,  and 
was  acted  with  an  animation  and  unctuous 
humor  quite  impossible  to  describe.  The  scene 
of  the  carousal  wherein  Sir  Toby  and  Aguecheek 
are  discovered ;  the  arrival  of  the  Clown  with 
his  "How,  now,  my  hearts?  Did  you  never 
see  the  picture  of  we  three?"  and  Belch's 
greeting  of  "  Welcome,  ass," — inaugurated  an 
episode  of  extraordinary  mirth,  in  which  Bur- 
ton moved  the  absolute  monarch  of  merriment. 
The  duel  scene  and  the  scene  in  the  garden, 
when  Malvolio  reads  the  letter,  were  full  of  the 
comedian's  diverting  power  ;  and  we  can  recall 
no  single  instance  of  humorous  execution 
which  more  perfectly  fulfilled  all  conditions. 

Burton  played  Touchstone  and  Dogberry,  as 
has  been  mentioned  ;  but  it  was  never  our 
good  fortune  to  see  him  in  either.  We  saw 


RECOLLECTIONS.  1 7  5 

him  as  Caliban,  in  "The  Tempest";  as  Au- 
tolycus,  in  "  Winter's  Tale  "  ;  and  as  Falstaff,  in 
"  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor."  His  Caliban 
we  have  tried  to  forget  rather  than  remember  ; 
it  terrified  us  and  made  us  dream  bad  dreams ; 
but  for  all  that,  we  know  that  it  was  a  surpris- 
ing impersonation.  His  Autolycus  was  a  model 
of  oily  roguery,  and  another  instance  of  that 
wondrous  versatility  of  genius  with  which  the 
comedian  was  endowed.  Very  dim  in  memory 
is  Burton's  Sir  John  Falstaff.  We  remember 
the  scene  in  the  Garter  Inn,  and  the  letters  to 
the  merry  wives,  and,  of  course,  the  denouement 
of  the  clothes-basket,  and  the  frolic  at  Herne's 
Oak, — but  we  cannot  go  into  detail ;  and  we 
always  thought  we  should  like  Burton  so  much 
better  in  the  Falstaff  of  "  Henry  IV."  The 
mention  of  "  Henry  IV."  reminds  us  that  it 
was  once  produced  at  the  Chambers  Street 
Theatre,  when  Hackett  played  Sir  John  to 
Lester  Wallack's  Prince  Hal ;  and  in  order  that 
nothing  might  be  lacking  in  honor  to  Shake- 
speare, Burton  and  Blake  played  the  two  Car- 


1/  RECOLLECTIONS. 

riers  in  Scene  I.  of  Act  II.  Fancy  those  two 
comedians  with  about  twenty-five  lines  only 
between  them  in  a  play  of  five  acts !  But  they 
must  have  covered  themselves  with  glory. 

We  have  endeavored  in  this  retrospect  to 
furnish  a  view  of  the  comedian  in  a  number  of 
characters  ;  and  we  think,  however  meagre  our 
account,  it  still  forcibly  indicates  the  scope  and 
range  of  Burton's  abilities,  and  exhibits  him 
in  a  wide  scene  of  varied  and  striking  dramatic 
power.  We  have  depicted  him  in  farce,  in 
comedy,  and  in  Shakespearian  delineations;  and 
it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  generations  will 
likely  pass  ere  his  fellow  shall  appear.  We 
have  heard  and  read  of  attempts  being  made 
by  ambitious  actors  to  revive  his  masterpieces, 
and  that  the  efforts  were  highly  commendable. 
Perhaps  they  were — 

' '  A  substitute  shines  brightly  as  a  king 
Until  a  king  be  by." 


MR.  BURTON'S   LIBRARY. 

My  library  was  dukedom  large  enough." — SHAKESPEARE. 


177 


MR.   BURTON'S   LIBRARY. 


MR.  BURTON  resided  at  No.  174  Hudson 
Street,  New  York,  and  owned  also  a  beautiful 
country-seat  at  Glen  Cove,  Long  Island,  now 
the  property  of  Mr.  S.  L.  M.  Barlow.  In  a 
building  adjoining  his  Hudson  Street  residence, 
and  connected  therewith  by  a  conservatory 
gallery,  were  contained  his  magnificent  library, 
treasures  of  art,  and  precious  relics.  Scholars, 
actors,  and  men  of  art  and  letters  were  fre- 
quent visitors  there,  and  the  owner  took  a 
laudable  pride  in  displaying  his  matchless  col- 
lection. 

A  very  interesting  story  of  the  painter  Elliot 
may  be  told  in  this  connection.  He  was  often 
a  visitor,  and  the  striking  resemblance  between 
the  artist's  head  and  the  accepted  bust  of 
Shakespeare  was  a  matter  of  common  observa- 
tion. On  one  occasion,  on  being  shown  by 
179 


l8o  MR.   BURTON S  LIBRARY. 

Burton  a  choice  Shakespearian  acquisition,  he 
became  intensely  interested,  and  quietly  seated 
himself  in  a  study-chair  the  better  to  examine 
the  prize.  "  Meantime,"  says  our  narrator, 
"  Burton  and  myself  were  engaged  in  other 
parts  of  the  house,  and  at  last  we  came  back 
to  the  library.  Burton  looked  through  the 
door,  and  placing  one  hand  on  his  mouth,  he 
put  the  other  on  my  chest,  and  thus  held  me 
back.  I  shall  never  forget  his  singular  look  at 
the  moment.  There  sat  Elliot  at  the  table, 
dressed  in  a  suit  of  plain  black,  his  hand  sup- 
porting his  cheek,  and  his  eyes  intent  upon  the 
book.  The  evening  light  from  the  ceiling  fell 
softly  upon  his  high  and  delicately  formed 
forehead  ;  just  over  him  was  an  exact  copy  of 
the  effigy  which  marks  the  great  dramatist's 
grave.  The  resemblance,  or  the  hallucination, 
for  the  moment  was  complete,  and  Burton, 
with  eyes  fairly  dilating  with  admiration  and 
astonishment,  said :  '  Shakespeare  living  again  ! 
Was  there  ever  such  a  resemblance  ?  ' ' 

It  has  been  thought  appropriate  to  include 


MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY.  l8l 

in  this  volume  a  description  of  the  library, 
from  the  pen  of  James  Wynne,  M.D.,  who 
in  1860  published  an  account  of  his  visits  to 
various  private  libraries  in  New  York,  and  Mr. 
Burton's  was  among  the  number.  At  the  time 
of  Mr.  Burton's  death  the  collection  was  prob- 
ably larger,  Dr.  Wynne's  visit  having  been 
made  at  a  much  earlier  date  than  the  publica- 
tion of  his  volume.  Every  lover  of  Shake- 
speare, we  think,  will  thank  us  for  enriching 
this  book  with  a  description  of  that  matchless 
library. 

WM.  E.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 
Mr.  Burton's  library  contains  nearly  sixteen 

• 

thousand  volumes.  Its  proprietor  had  con- 
structed for  its  accommodation  and  preserva- 
tion a  three-story  fire-proof  building,  about 
thirty-five  feet  square,  which  is  isolated  from 
all  other  buildings,  and  is  connected  with  his 
residence  in  Hudson  Street  by  a  conservatory 
gallery.  The  chief  library  room  occupies  the 
upper  floor  of  this  building,  and  is  about 


1 82  MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 

twenty-five  feet  in  height.  Its  ceiling  presents 
a  series  of  groined  rafters,  after  the  old  English 
style,  in  the  centre  of  which  rises  a  dome  sky- 
light of  stained  glass.  The  sides  of  the  library 
are  fitted  up  with  thirty-six  oak  bookcases  of 
a  Gothic  pattern,  which  entirely  surround  it, 
and  are  nine  feet  in  height.  The  space  be- 
tween the  ceiling  and  the  bookcases  is  filled 
with  paintings,  for  the  most  part  of  large  size, 
and  said  to  be  of  value.  Specimens  of  armor 
and  busts  of  distinguished  authors  decorate 
appropriate  compartments,  and  in  a  prominent 
niche  at  the  head  of  the  apartment,  stands  a 
full-length  statue  of  Shakespeare,  executed  by 
Thorn,  in  the  same  style  as  the  Tarn  O'Shan- 
ter  and  Old  Mortality  groups  of  this  Scotch 
sculptor. 

The  great  speciality  of  the  library  is  its 
Shakespeare  collection  ;  but  although  very 
extensive  and  valuable,  it  by  no  means  en- 
grosses the  entire  library,  which  contains  a 
large  number  of  valuable  works  in  several  de- 
partments of  literature. 


MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY.  183 

The  number  of  lexicons  and  dictionaries 
is  large,  and  among  the  latter  may  be  found 
all  the  rare  old  English  works  so  valuable  for, 
reference.  Three  bookcases  are  devoted  to 
serials,  which  contain  many  of  the  standard  re- 
views and  magazines.  One  case  is  appropriated 
to  voyages  and  travels,  in  which  are  found  many 
valuable  ones.  In  another  are  upward  of  one 
hundred  volumes  of  table-talk,  and  numerous 
works  on  the  fine  arts  and  bibliography.  One 
bookcase  is  devoted  to  choice  works  on  America, 
among  which  is  Sebastian  Munster's  "  Cosmo- 
graphia  Novum  Orbis  Regionum,"  published  in 
folio  at  Basle  in  1 537,  which  contains  full  notes  of 
Columbus,  Vespucci,  and  other  early  voyagers. 
Another  department  contains  a  curious  cata- 
logue of  authorities  relating  to  Crime  and 
Punishment;  a  liberal  space  is  devoted  to 
Facetice,  another  to  American  Poetry,  and 
also  one  to  Natural  and  Moral  Philosophy. 
The  standard  works  of  Fiction,  Biography, 
Theology,  and  the  Drama  are  all  represented. 

There  is  a  fair  collection  of  classical  authors, 


1 84  MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 

many  of  which  are  of  Aldine  and  Elzevir 
editions.  Among  the  rarities  in  this  depart- 
ment is  a  folio  copy  of  Plautus,  printed  at 
Venice  in  1518,  and  illustrated  with  wood-cuts. 
The  true  name  of  this  writer  was  T.  Maccius 
Plautus.  He  was  of  humble  origin,  and  is 
supposed  to  have  once  been  a  slave.  He  lived 
at  Rome  about  one  hundred  and  eighty  years 
before  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era,  and 
wrote  a  number  of  plays  which  obtained  great 
celebrity  in  the  time  of  their  author,  and  con- 
tinued to  be  looked  upon  as  models  of  this 
species  of  composition  for  many  centuries  after 
his  decease.  Twenty  of  his  plays  are  extant, 
which  are  distinguished  for  the  purity  of  their 
style  and  the  exquisite  humor  of  their  charac- 
ters, although  Horace  blames  him  for  the 
coarseness  of  his  wit.  Gellius,  who  held  him 
in  much  esteem,  says  that  he  was  distinguished 
for  his  poetry  upon  the  stage  at  the  time  that 
Cato  was  for  his  eloquence  in  the  forum.  The 
first  edition  of  his  works  was  printed  at  Venice, 
in  1472,  by  Merula.  The  edition  of  1518, 


MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY.  185 

in  this  collection,  is  so  rare  as  not  to  be  men- 
tioned by  Brunet,  De  Bure,  or  Michael  Mat- 
taire.  There  is  also  a  folio  edition  of  Sallust, 
published  at  Venice  in  1511,  with  wood-cuts; 
an  excellent  copy  of  Statius,  published  at 
Venice  in  1498  ;  and  a  translation  from  the 
Greek  of  Plutarch  into  Latin  by  Guarini,  of 
Verona,  surnamed  Veronese,  who  was  the 
first  of  a  family  celebrated  for  their  literary 
attainments,  and  who  is  frequently  confound- 
ed with  Battista  Guarini,  the  author  of  "II 
Pastor  Fido."  Guarini  Veronese  was  the  gram- 
marian of  his  day,  and  a  strong  advocate 
for  the  preservation  of  the  Greek  language 
in  its  purity.  He  was  an  assiduous  student, 
and  spent  considerable  time  at  Constantinople 
in  copying  the  manuscripts  of  the  best  models 
in  Grecian  literature.  Accompanied  by  his 
precious  freight,  he  set  sail  for  Italy,  but  was 
shipwrecked,  and  lost  all  of  his  laboriously 
acquired  treasure,  which  produced  such  an 
effect  upon  him  as  to  change  his  hair  from  a 
dark  color  to  white  in  a  single  night.  The 


1 86  MR,  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 

world  is  indebted  to  him  for  the  first  edition 
of  the  "Commentaries"  of  Servius  on  Virgil, 
and  likewise  for  the  recovery  of  a  number  of 
manuscript  poems  of  Catullus,  which  he  found 
mouldering  and  almost  obliterated  in  a  garret. 
With  the  assistance  of  his  father,  he  applied 
himself  to  the  task  of  deciphering  them,  and, 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  verses,  reproduced 
them  entirely. 

The  collection  is  well  supplied  with  editions 
of  Virgil.  In  addition  to  Ogilby's  folio,  with 
Hollar  and  Fairthorne's  plates,  is  a  choice 
copy  of  the  illustrated  edition  in  three  folio 
volumes,  and  the  very  rare  fac-simile  Floren- 
tine edition  of  1741  (Ex  cod.  Mediceo  Lauren- 
tiano).  This  edition  is  now  so  scarce  that  a 
copy  was  recently  sold  in  London  for  fifty 
pounds  sterling. 

The  collection  also  contains  a  copy  of  the 
Vatican  edition  of  Terence,  in  Latin  and 
Italian,  after  the  text  of  Heinsius,  with 
numerous  illustrations  of  ancient  masks,  etc., 
published  at  Rome  in  two  folio  volumes  in 


MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY.  l8/ 

1767;  an  excellent  copy  of  the  best  edition 
of  Suetonius,  with  commentaries  by  Baraldi, 
printed  in  Roman  letter  at  Paris  in  1512; 
"  Titi  Livii,"  published  at  Nuremberg  in 
folio,  in  1514,  in  its  original  wood  binding; 
Livy's  Roman  History,  published  in  1600 — 
the  first  English  edition;  " Diogenes  Laertius 
de  Vitis  et  Dogmatibus  Philosophorum,"  pub- 
lished at  Amsterdam  in  1692 ;  a  vellum  black- 
letter  copy  of  Eusebius,  of  the  rare  Venetian 
edition  of  1483;  Boetius,  published  in  1570; 
the  two  original  editions  of  the  eminent 
critic,  Justus  Lipsius ;  the  Antwerp  edition  of 
Seneca,  published  in  1570;  the  same  work  in 
folio,  in  1613  ;  and  Stephen's  edition  of 
Sophocles,  published  in  1518,  which  is  an 
admirable  specimen  of  Greek  typography. 

Among  the  Italian  poets  is  a  copy  of  Dante, 
in  folio,  published  in  1497,  with  most  remark- 
able cuts;  and  the  "  Commentaries"  of  Lan- 
dino,  the  most  highly  valued  of  all  the  old 
commentators  upon  this  poet ;  also  an  excel- 
lent large-paper  copy  of  Tasso,  in  the  original 


1 88  MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 

text,  with  Morghen's  exquisite  line  engravings, 
published  in  1820,  in  two  folio  volumes. 

Cervantes  appears  to  have  been  quite  a 
favorite  with  the  possessor  of  this  library,  who 
has  the  excellent  Spanish  edition  of  1738,  with 
Van  der  Gucht's  beautiful  plates  and  many 
inserted  illustrations,  in  four  volumes;  the 
quarto  edition,  published  at  La  Haye",  in  1746, 
containing  thirty-one  plates  from  Coypel's  de- 
signs; Smollett's  quarto  edition  of  1755,  in  two 
volumes,  with  plates  by  Grignion  after  designs 
by  Hayman ;  a  folio  edition  by  Shelton,  with 
many  curious  engravings,  published  in  1652, 
besides  several  modern  editions. 

In  the  historical  department  is  a  fine  edition 
of  Montfaucon's  works  in  twenty  folio  vol- 
umes, including  the  "Monarchic  Frangaise"; 
the  original  edition  of  Dugdale's  works,  in- 
cluding the  "  Monasticon  "  with  the  old 
designs ;  Boissardus's  "  Romanse  Urbis  An- 
tiquitates,"  in  three  volumes,  folio ;  and  a 
large  number  of  the  old  Chroniclers,  in  their 
earliest  and  rarest  editions.  Among  these  lat- 


MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY.  189 

ter  are  two  copies  of  the  very  scarce  *'  Poly- 
chronicon,"  by  Raulph  Higden,  the  monk  of 
Chester :  the  one  in  black-letter  folio,  printed 
in  1495,  by  Wynkyn  de  Worde,  is  wanting  in 
the  last  page;  the  other,  printed  in  1527  by 
Peter  Traveris,  and  ornamented  with  wood- 
cuts, is  in  perfect  order.  Both  of  these  vol- 
umes have  marginal  notes,  probably  in  the 
handwriting  of  the  day. 

The  collection  is  particularly  rich  in  copies 
of  original  editions  of  old  English  poetry, 
among  which  are  the  works  of  Samuel 
Daniel,  1602  ;  Sandy's  Ovid,  published  in 
1626 ;  Lucan,  by  Sir  Arthur  Gorges,  pub- 
lished in  1614,  noticed  in  Colin  Clout,  and 
personified  as  Alcyon  in  Spenser's  "  Daph- 
naida  "  ;  "  Arte  of  Englysh  Poesie,"  with  a  fine 
portrait  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  published  in 
15%9>  Quarle's  works;  Harrington's  transla- 
tion of  "  Orlando  Furioso,"  folio,  published  in 
1591,  with  plates  in  compartments;  Sir  W. 
Davenant's  poems,  published  in  quarto  in  1651, 
with  an  original  poem  in  the  author's  hand- 


190  MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 

writing,  never  published  ;  copies  of  the  editions 
of  1613  and  1648  of  George  Wither's  poems, 
and  Chapman's  "  Seven  Bookes  of  the  Iliad  of 
Homer,"  published  in  1598. 

This  latter  writer,  who  was  born  in  Kent, 
in  England,  in  1559,  was  one  of  the  coterie 
formed  by  Daniel,  Marlowe,  Spenser,  Shakes- 
peare, and  others,  and  lived  upon  terms  of 
great  good-fellowship  with  England's  great- 
est bard.  He  had  no  mean  reputation  as 
a  dramatic  writer,  and  was,  besides,  highly 
respected  as  a  gentleman.  His  social  posi- 
tion appears  to  have  been  an  excellent  one, 
and  his  urbanity  of  manner  such  as  to  endear 
him  to  all  his  friends.  His  intimate  associa- 
tion with  Shakespeare  seems  to  establish  the 
fact  that  in  his  own  day  the  great  poet 
occupied  a  prominent  place  in  society,  and 
was  as  duly  appreciated  in  his  own  time,  as 
Johnson  and  Pope  in  •  theirs.  A  monument 
was  planned  and  erected  over  the  remains  of 
Chapman  by  his  personal  friend,  Inigo  Jones, 
on  the  south  side  of  St.  George's  in  the  Fields  ; 


MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY.  19! 

but  in  the  changes  which  have  disturbed  the 
repose  of  those  who  were  consigned  to  their 
last  resting-place  in  that  burial-ground,  the 
monument  has  been  destroyed. 

This  department  possesses  the  black-letter 
folios  of  Chaucer  in  1542  (the  first  complete 
edition),  that  of  1561,  and  that  of  1598,  all  of 
which  are  now  quite  scarce ;  the  folio  editions 
of  Milton  of  1692  and  1695,  possessing  the  old 
but  characteristic  engravings,  as  well  as  the 
quarto  edition  in  two  volumes,  published  at  the 
expense  of  the  Earl  of  Bath  ;  Touson's  edition 
of  1751,  with  plates;  a  large-paper  copy  of 
the  edition  of  1802,  which  contains  Westall's 
plates;  and  Martin's  edition  of  1826,  enriched 
by  twenty-four  original  and  beautiful  engrav- 
ings ;  likewise  the  first  folio  edition  of  Spen- 
ser's "Fairy  Queen,"  published  in  1609,  and 
Fairfax's  Tasso,  published  in  1624. 

Besides  the  works  already  noticed,  are  Sylves- 
ter's "Du  Bartus";  Warner's  "  Albion  and 
England,"  published  in  1586;  "  all  the  works  of 
John  Taylor,  the  water-poet,  being  sixty  and 


MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 

three  in  number,"  published  in  folio  in  1630. 
This  is  a  very  rare  work,  and  is  said  to  have 
been  sold  for  eighty  guineas.  A  similar  work  to 
this  is  the  "  Shype  of  Fools  of  the  Worlde," 
translated  from  Brandt,  and  published  in  black- 
letter  folio,  with  many  wood-cuts,  in  1509.  A 
perfect  copy  of  this  work  is  very  rare.  The 
one  in  the  present  collection  is  wanting  in  the 
title-page  and  two  last  leaves.1  Its  price  in 
the  catalogue  Anglo-Poetica,  is  one  hundred 
guineas.  The  copy  of  Taylor,  in  the  collec- 
tion, is  a  fine  large  one,  and  handsomely  bound. 
The  real  value  of  these  two  last  volumes,  in  a 
literary  point  of  view,  is  perhaps  not  great, 
but  still  from  their  peculiar  associations  they 
are  highly  prized  by  bibliophiles.  Southey 
says  :  "  There  is  nothing  in  John  Taylor  which 
deserves  preservation  for  its  intrinsic  merit 
alone,  but  in  the  collection  of  his  pieces  which 
I  have  perused  there  is  a  great  deal  to  illus- 
trate the  manners  of  his  age.  If  the  water- 
poet  had  been  in  a  higher  grade  of  society,  and 

1  In  the  British  Museum,  and  the  Bibliothlque  Imptriale  at 
Paris,  are  perfect  copies  of  this  work. 


MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY.  193 

bred  to  some  regular  profession,  he  would 
probably  have  been  a  much  less  distinguished 
person  in  his  generation.  No  spoon  could 
have  suited  his  mouth  so  well  as  the  wooden 
one  to  which  he  was  born.  Fortunately  he 
came  into  the  world  at  the  right  time,  and 
lived  at  an  age  when  kings  and  queens 
condescended  to  notice  his  verses,  and 
archbishops  admitted  him  to  their  tables, 
and  mayors  and  corporations  received  him 
with  civic  honors." 3 

There  is  a  department  of  curiosities  in  the 
shape  of  odd  or  rare  books,  which  is  quite 
interesting :  among  the  works  are  the  singu- 
lar history  of  M.  Oufl£  ;  the  "  Encyclopaedia 
of  Man,"  printed  in  English  after  the  manner 
of  Hebrew  publications,  beginning  at  the 
close  of  the  volume  and  reading  to  the 
left ;  "  Anteros,"  by  Baptista  Fulgosius,  in 
quarto,  published  in  1496.  This  work,  "  Centre 
1' Amour,"  is  said  to  be  of  extraordinary  rarity. 
Likewise  the  "  Zodiacke  of  Life,"  published  in 
1  Southey's  "  Uneducated  Poets,"  p.  87. 


194  MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 

1588;  a  curious  manuscript  in  not  very  good 
Latin,  with  illuminated  letters,  upon  the  Lord's 
Prayer  and  the  Creed,  by  Hen.  Custas,  dated 
1614 ;  Memorable  Accidents  and  Massacres  in 
France,  in  folio,  published  in  1598  ;  a  singular 
black-letter  Edict  of  Emperor  Charles  V.,  pub- 
lished in  1521  ;  a  very  singular  Siamese  work 
on  the  laws  of  marriage  ;  Petri  Bembi,  with  a 
frontispiece  by  Hans  Holbein,  published  in 
1518  ;  "  Libri  Exemplorum,"  by  Ric  Pafradius, 
published  in  1481  ;  the  original  edition  of  "The 
Rogue ;  or,  Life  of  De  Alfarache  Guzman," 
folio,  published  in  1634,  translated  by  James 
Mabbe,  otherwise  known  as  Don  Diego 
Puedesur. 

There  is  also  a  copy  of  the  "  Opera  Hrosvite 
Illustris  Virginis,"  published  in  Nuremberg  in 
1501,  in  folio,  bound  in  old  wooden  covers 
with  brass  clamps.  This  work,  which  contains 
some  wood-engravings  equal  to  etchings,  prob- 
ably the  work  of  Durer,  is  fully  described  by 
Mengerand  in  his  "  Esprit  des  Journaux " ; 
Pisoni's  "  Historia,"  with  engravings  of  birds, 


MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY.  195 

animals,  and  fishes,  that  would  excite  the  sur- 
prise of  the  naturalist  of  the  present  day ; 
"  Novus  Marcellus  Doctrina,"  published  at 
Venice  in  1476,  on  large  paper,  with  colored 
initials ;  a  curious  folio,  manuscript  history 
of  the  "  Starre  Chamber "  ;  and  Lithgow's 
"  Rare  Adventures  and  Painful  Peregrina- 
tiones,"  published  in  1632,  interlined  with 
the  author's  manuscript  emendations,  and  evi- 
dently intended  for  a  new  edition.  This 
work  is  rare — the  copy  owned  by  King  Charles 
brought  £42  at  Jadis's  sale. 

The  collection  has  a  large  number  of  old 
Bibles,  many  thousand  biblical  illustrations,  a 
large  number  of  other  illustrated  works,  and 
many  books  and  prints  especially  devoted  to 
the  Cromwellian  era  of  English  life. 

The  Shakespeare  department  contains 
many  separate  editions  of  the  works  of  the 
immortal  bard,  each  of  which  is  distinguished 
by  some  peculiarity.  First  among  these  stand 
the  four  folios  published  in  1623,  1632,  1664, 
and  1685,  with  a  number  of  the  original  quartos 


196  MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 

of  separate  plays,  illustrated  copies,  some  of 
which  belonged  to  able  scholars,  and  are 
enriched  by  their  manuscript  notes. 

Mr.  Burton  sought  to  possess  every  work 
that  alludes  to  the  early  editions  of  Shake- 
speare, or  which  serves  in  any  way  to  il- 
lustrate the  text.  Among  these  are  to  be 
found  many  of  the  original  tracts,  the  scarce 
romances,  the  old  histories,  and  the  rare  bal- 
lads, upon  which  he  founded  his  wonderful 
plays,  or  which  are  alluded  to  in  the  text.  The 
collection  contains  the  book  alluded  to  by  the 
quaint  and  facetious  Touchstone,  in  "  As  You 
Like  It,"  by  which  the  gallants  were  said  to 
quarrel  with  the  various  degrees  of  proof, — 
"  the  retort  courteous,  the  countercheck  quarrel- 
some, and  the  lie  direct"  ;  the  "  Book  of  Good 
Manners,"  the  "  Book  of  Sonnets  "  mentioned  in 
the  "  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  the  "  Book  of 
Compliments,"  and  the  "  Hundred  Merry 
Tales";  and  Montaigne,  translated  by  Florio, 
who  is  supposed  by  some  to  be  the  Holofernes 
in  "  Love's  Labor  's  Lost  "  ;  the  edition  of  Hoi- 


MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY.  197 

« 

inshed,  so  freely  used  by  Shakespeare  in  his 
historical  plays,  with  the  lines  quoted  by  him 
underscored  with  red  ink. 

Among  the  collected  editions  of  Shake- 
speare is  the  first  quarto,  in  seven  volumes, 
edited  by  Pope,  which,  besides  having  the 
reputation  of  being  the  least  reliable  of 
any  edition  of  Shakespeare's  works,  is  de- 
faced by  an  engraving  of  King  James  I.  of 
England,  which  the  publishers  sought  to  palm 
upon  the  public  as  the  likeness  of  the  great 
dramatist.  It  is  engraved  by  Vertue  from  an 
original  painting  in  the  Harleian  collection, 
and  does  not  possess  the  slightest  resem- 
blance to  any  of  the  various  portraits  of 
Shakespeare. 

The  collection  contains  a  large-paper  copy  of 
Hanmer's  beautiful  quarto  edition,  published 
in  1744,  with  Gravelot's  etchings,  which  is  now 
quite  rare  ;  also,  the  reprint  of  the  same  work, 
made  in  1770,  and  a  fine  copy  of  the  quarto 
edition,  known  as  Heath's,  in  six  volumes,  with 
proof  plates  after  Stothard ;  a  beautiful  and 


198  MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 

undoubtedly  unique  copy  of  the  Atlas  folio 
edition  in  nine  volumes,  published  by  Boydell 
in  1802,  elegantly  bound  and  tooled  with  great 
richness  of  design.  This  copy  was  selected  by 
Boydell,  with  great  care,  for  Miss  Mary  Nicol, 
sister  of  George  Nicol,  printer  to  the  king,  and 
a  relative  of  Boydell.  It  contains  proof  im- 
pressions of  the  engravings,  and  an  extra 
volume  of  original  etchings.  This  work  was 
purchased  at  the  sale  of  the  Stowe  library. 
The  certificates  of  Nicol  and  the  librarian  of 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  testifying  to  the 
value  and  rarity  of  this  picked  specimen  of 
typography  and  engraving,  are  bound  in  the 
first  volume  of  the  work.  The  collection  con- 
tains Mr.  Boydell's  own  private  portfolio,  with 
the  original  etchings,  artist's  proof,  and  proof 
before  letter,  of  every  engraving,  with  the 
portraits,  now  so  difficult  to  meet  with,  of  the 
large  elephant  folio  plates,  upward  of  one 
hundred  in  number. 

But   the  crowning  glory  is  a  folio  copy  of 
Shakespeare,  illustrated  by  the  collector  him- 


MR,  BURTON'S  LIBRARY.  199 

self,  with  a  prodigality  of  labor  and  expense 
that  places  it  far  above  any  similar  work  ever 
attempted.  The  letter-press  of  this  great  work 
is  a  choice  specimen  from  Nicol's  types,  and 
each  play  occupies  a  separate  portfolio.  These 
are  accompanied  by  costly  engravings  of  land- 
scapes, rare  portraits,  maps,  elegantly  colored 
plates  of  costumes,  and  water-color  drawings, 
executed  by  some  of  the  best  artists  of  the 
day.  Some  of  the  plays  have  over  two  hun- 
dred folio  illustrations,  each  of  which  is  beauti- 
fully inlaid  or  mounted,  and  many  of  the 
engravings  are  very  valuable.  Some  of  the 
landscapes,  selected  from  the  oldest  cosmog- 
raphies known,  illustrating  the  various  places 
mentioned  in  the  pages  of  Shakespeare,  are 
exceedingly  curious  as  well  as  valuable. 

In  the  historical  plays,  when  possible,  every 
character  is  portrayed  from  authoritative 
sources,  as  old  tapestries,  monumental  brasses, 
or  illuminated  works  of  the  age  in  well- 
executed  drawings  or  recognized  engravings. 
There  are  in  this  work  a  vast  number  of  illus- 


200  MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 

trations,  in  addition  to  a  very  numerous 
collection  of  water-color  drawings,  In  addition 
to  the  thirty-seven  plays,  are  two  volumes 
devoted  to  Shakespeare's  life  and  times,  one 
volume  of  portraits,  one  volume  devoted  to  dis- 
tinguished Shakespearians,  one  to  poems,  and 
two  to  disputed  plays, — the  whole  embracing 
a  series  of  forty-two  folio  volumes,  and  form- 
ing, perhaps,  the  most  remarkable  and  costly 
monument  in  this  shape  ever  attempted  by  a 
devout  worshipper  of  the  Bard  of  Avon. 

The  volume  devoted  to  Shakespeare's  por- 
traits was  purchased  by  Mr.  Burton  at  the  sale 
of  a  gentleman's  library,  who  had  spent  many 
years  in  making  the  collection,  and  includes 
various  "  effigies"  unknown  to  many  laborious 
collectors.  It  contains  upward  of  one  hundred 
plates,  for  the  most  part  proofs.  The  value  of 
this  collection  may  be  estimated  by  the  fact 
that  a  celebrated  English  collector  recently 
offered  its  possessor  £60  for  this  single  volume. 

In  the  reading-room,  directly  beneath  the 
main  library,  are  a  number  of  portfolios  of  prints 


MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY.  2OI 

illustrative  of  the  plays  of  Shakespeare,  of  a 
size  too  large  to  be  included  in  the  illustrated 
collection  just  noticed.  There  is  likewise  an- 
other copy  of  Shakespeare  based  upon  Knight's 
pictorial  royal  octavo,  copiously  illustrated 
by  the  owner ;  but  although  the  prints  are 
numerous,  they  are  neither  as  costly  nor  as 
rare  as  those  contained  in  the  large  folio  copy. 
Among  the  curiosities  of  the  Shakespeare  col- 
lection are  a  number  of  copies  of  the  disputed 
plays,  printed  during  his  lifetime,  with  the 
name  of  Shakespeare  as  their  author.  It  is 
remarkable,  if  these  plays  were  not  at  least  re- 
vised by  Shakespeare,  that  no  record  of  a  con- 
tradiction of  their  authorship  should  be  found. 
It  is  not  improbable  that  many  plays  written 
by  others  were  given  to  Shakespeare  to  perform 
in  his  capacity  as  a  theatrical  manager,  requir- 
ing certain  alterations  in  order  to  adapt  them 
to  the  use  of  the  stage,  which  were  arranged 
by  his  cunning  and  skilful  hand,  and  that  these 
plays  afterward  found  their  way  into  print  with 
just  sufficient  of  his  emendations  to  allow  his 


202  MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 

authorship  of  them,  in  the  carelessness  in 
which  he  held  his  literary  fame,  to  pass  uncon- 
tradicted  by  him. 

There  is  a  copy  of  an  old  play  of  the  period, 
with  manuscript  annotations,  and  the  name  of 
Shakespeare  written  on  the  title-page.  It  is 
either  the  veritable  signature  of  the  poet  or 
an  admirably  imitated  forgery.  Mr.  Burton 
inclined  to  the  opinion  that  the  work  once 
belonged  to  Shakespeare,  and  that  the  sig- 
nature is  genuine.  If  so,  it  is  probably  the 
only  scrap  of  his  handwriting  on  this  con- 
tinent. This  work  is  not  included  in  the  list 
given  of  Ireland's  library,  the  contents  of 
which  were  brought  into  disrepute  by  the  re- 
markable literary  forgeries  of  the  son,  but  stands 
forth  peculiar  and  unique,  and  furnishes  much 
room  for  curious  speculation. 

These  forgeries  form  a  curious  feature  in  the 
Shakespeare  history  of  the  last  century.  They 
were  executed  by  William  Henry  Ireland,  the 
son  of  a  gentleman  of  much  literary  taste,  and  a 
devoted  admirer  of  Shakespeare.  Young  Ire- 


MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY.  203 

land,  who  was  apprenticed  to  an  attorney, 
possessed  the  dangerous  faculty  of  imitating 
the  handwriting  of  another  person  with  such 
perfection  as  to  deceive  the  most  careful 
critic.  His  occupation  led  him  much  among 
old  records,  by  which  means  he  acquired  a 
knowledge  of  the  phraseology  used  in  them, 
and  the  general  appearance  imparted  by  age 
to  the  paper  and  ink,  all  of  which  he  was 
enabled  to  imitate  very  closely. 

His  father's  reverence  for  Shakespeare  in- 
duced him  to  endeavor  to  palm  off  upon  him- 
self and  friends,  probably  at  first  as  a  good  joke, 
some  originals  of  the  great  poet.  One  of  these 
was  a  declaration  of  his  faith  in  the  Protestant 
church,  which,  when  shown  to  Dr.  Parr,  drew 
from  this  great  scholar  the  observation  that,  al- 
though there  were  many  fine  things  in  the 
church  service,  here  was  a  man  who  distanced 
them  all. 

Mr.  Boaden,  a  gentleman  of  great  taste, 
states  that  when  he  first  saw  these  papers 
he  looked  upon  them  with  the  purest  delight, 


204  MR-  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 

and  touched  them  with  the  greatest  respect,  as 
veritable  and  indisputable  relics.  A  number  of 
gentlemen  met  at  Mr.  Ireland's  house,  and  after 
carefully  inspecting  the  manuscripts,  subscribed 
a  paper  vouching  their  authenticity.  Among 
these  were  Dr.  Parr,  Dr.  Valpy,  Pye,  the  Poet- 
Laureate,  Herbert  Croft,  and  Boswell.  It 
is  said  that  when  Boswell  approached  to  sign 
the  paper  he  reverentially  fell  upon  his  knees, 
thanked  God  that  he  had  witnessed  the  dis- 
covery, and,  in  the  language  of  Simeon, 
exclaimed :  "  Nunc  dimittis  servum  tuum, 
Domine,  in  pace." 

It  was  now  too  late  for  young  Ireland  to 
retreat,  if  he  ever  intended  to  have  done  so, 
and  the  discovery  of  the  imposture  remained 
for  Malone  and  Chalmers  fully  to  develop. 
The  disclosure  is  said  to  have  brought  the 
elder  Mr.  Ireland  in  sorrow  to  his  grave,  and 
to  have  bestowed  upon  the  young  scapegrace, 
who,  either  thoughtlessly,  or  with  malice  afore- 
thought, had  embittered  the  last  years  of 
the  life  of  a  tender  parent,  the  epithet  (which 


MR.  BURTON'S  LIBRARY.  2O5 

clung  to  him  ever  afterward)  of  "  Shakespeare 
Ireland." 

The  contemporaries  of  Shakespeare  are 
quite  numerous.  In  the  cases  devoted  to  the 
old  English  drama  are  the  original  and  best 
editions  of  Chapman,  Marston,  Heywood, 
Dekker,  Greene,  Rowley,  Massinger,  Ford, 
Jonson,  and  Field.  Besides  the  original  quar- 
tos, the  library  contains  most  of  the  collected 
editions  of  the  old  dramatists,  and  in  this  de- 
partment it  is  quite  complete. 

Three  book-cases  are  devoted  to  works  per- 
taining to  the  history  of  the  stage,  in  every 
country  and  language,  from  the  commence- 
ment of  the  art  to  the  present  time,  and  scarce- 
ly a  work  relating  to  the  history,  progress,  or 
criticism  of  the  stage  can  be  named  which 
is  not  to  be  found  in  the  collection. 

A  full-length  statue  of  Shakespeare  in  free- 
stone, placed  in  a  niche  upon  the  northern  side 
of  the  room,  and  surrounded  by  carved  tracery 
of  a  Gothic  design,  has  already  been  noticed. 
Upon  the  eastern  side  the  Stratford  bust  is 


206  MR,  BURTON'S  LIBRARY. 

placed  on  a  bracket  of  the  age  of  Elizabeth. 
The  celebrated  antiquary,  Cottingham,  devoted 
his  personal  attention  to  this  work,  and  no 
other  copy  has  been  given  to  the  world.  This 
bust,  the  bracket  upon  which  it  rests,  a  curious 
old  drinking-vessel  of  stone  with  a  metal  lid,  all 
found  in  the  garden  of  Shakespeare's  house  at 
New  Place,  a  well-carved  head  of  a  Nubian 
girl,  and  the  key-stone  of  an  entrance  arch  of 
the  theatre  at  Pompeii,  were  purchased  by  the 
owner  of  the  present  collection  at  the  extensive 
sale  of  the  personal  effects  of  Mr.  Cottingham. 
There  is  also  a  beautifully  carved  tea-caddy, 
made  from  the  wood  of  Shakespeare's  mul- 
berry-tree, which  formerly  belonged  to  Gar- 
rick,  and  a  small  copy  of  Roubilliac's  statue 
of  Shakespeare,  which  is  the  first  specimen  of 
china-ware  executed  at  Chelsea,  in  England. 
This  likewise  belonged  to  Garrick.  There  are 
likewise  two  drinking-cups  with  silver  rims, 
said  to  be  made  of  the  wood  of  a  crab-tree  under 
which  Shakespeare  slept  during  his  celebrated 
frolic,  formerly  in  the  possession  of  Betterton. 


CONCLUSION. 


IN  depicting  the  career  of  William  E.  Burton 
as  Actor,  Author,  and  Manager,  we  are  aware 
of  the  secondary  value  of  his  authorship,  as 
compared  with  his  dramatic  achievements. 
Nevertheless,  his  pen  was  a  ready  and  fertile 
one,  and  produced  much  that  was  meritorious, 
though  belonging  to  an  ephemeral  order.  His 
plays,  however,  continue  in  the  list  of  present 
theatrical  publications.  Of  his  editorship  it 
may  be  affirmed  that  his  conduct  of  "  The 
Gentleman's  Magazine  "  and  "  Literary  Souve- 
nir "  was  marked  by  taste  and  discrimination; 
and  nothing  but  unqualified  praise  can  be 
bestowed  upon  his  superintendence  of  the 
compilation  of  humorous  literature  known  as 
Burton's  "  Cyclopaedia  of  Wit  and  Humor."  It  is 
by  far  the  most  complete  repository  of  mirth- 
207 


208  CONCLUSION. 

ful  composition  ever  published  in  this  country 
— or  elsewhere,  so  far  as  we  know, — and  enjoys 
the  peculiar  advantage  of  being  the  only  one 
in  which  the  productions  of  American  humor 
have  any  thing  approaching  an  adequate  repre- 
sentation. The  selections  throughout  are 
indicative  of  great  critical  sagacity,  and  a  keen 
perception  and  sympathetic  appreciation,  in 
the  general  arrangement,  are  everywhere  sug- 
gested. As  manager  he  certainly  fulfilled  all 
conditions,  as  we  believe  the  relation  of  his 
successes  in  that  sphere  will  sufficiently  attest. 
But  whatever  his  capacity  in  the  vocations 
named,  all  is  dwarfed  by  his  transcendent 
powers  as  a  comedian.  He  is  remembered, 
and  will  be  remembered,  not  as  the  author  or 
manager,  but  as  the  great  actor  who  swayed 
mankind  with  his  supreme  gift  of  humor. 
Many  of  the  creations  of  his  genius  went  away 
with  him  in  death ;  and  the  traditions  of  his 
triumphs  will  long  be  distinguished  in  dramatic 
annals.  Lastly,  we  have  seen  him  a  Shake- 
spearian student  and  the  possessor  of  a  library 


CONCLUSION.  209 

perfectly  glorious  in  its  expression  of  devotion 
and  homage  to  the  great  poet,— and  linked 
with  that  proud  association  we  leave  his 
memory  and  his  name. 


INDEX. 


211 


INDEX. 


Abbot,  Mr.,  14,  15 

Abbott,  Mrs.,  97 

"  A  Chapter  of  Accidents,"  song,  12 

Albany,  N.  Y.,  90,  101 

"  All  at  Coventry,"  116 

American  Theatre,  Phila.,  20 

"  Amilie  ;  or,  The  Love  Test,"  23 

"  An  Alarming  Sacrifice,"  116 

"  Animal  Magnetism,"  112 

"  Antigone,"  22 

"  Antony's  Orations,"  15 

"  An  Unwarrantable  Intrusion,"  58 

"  Apollo  in  New  York,"  115 

Arch  Street  Theatre,  Phila.,  9,  13,  26 

Astor  Place  Opera-House,  97 

"  As  You  Like  It,"  97,  113 

Atlanta,  Ga.,  155 

"  Bachelors'  Torments,"  53 

Balls,  Mr.,  15 

Baltimore,  Md.,  26,  37 

"  Banker's  Daughter,"  the,  132 

"  Barbers  at  Court,"  116 

Barlow,  S.  L.  M.,  179 

Barnett,  Morris,  98,  156 

213 


214  INDEX, 

Barrett,  Geo.,  38,  45  ;  extended  mention,  75,  76 

Barry,  Thos.,  38 

"  Beehive,"  the,  115 

"  Betsey  Baker,"  116 

Biddle,  Nicholas,  24 

Blake,  W.  R.,  38,  45,  51  ;  extended  mention,  51-55  ;  men- 
tion, 68,  72,  78,  92,  in,  169,  175 

Bland,  Humphrey,  45,  51  ;  extended  mention,  74,  97,  169 

"  Blighted  Being,"  a,  73 

"  Blue  Devils,"  112,  140 

Booth,  Edwin,  47,  101 

Boston,  Mass.,  37,  102 

Boston  Theatre,  102 

Boucicault,  Dion,  47,  98,  101,  132 

"  Box  and  Cox,"  114 

"  Breach  of  Promise,"  the,  94,  113,  163,  171 

Broadway  Theatre,  38  ;  67,  note 

"  Broken  Heart,"  the,  114 

Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  39 

Brougham,  Jno.,  37,  45  ;  extended  mention,  55-64,  71,  92,  149 

Brougham's  Lyceum,  60 

Brougham,  Mrs.,  60 

Buckland,  Mrs.  Kate,  45 

Buckstone,  J.  B.,  36,  131 

Burton's  Company  in  Chambers  Street  ;  extended  review  of 
particular  players,  45-92 

"  Burton's  N.  Y.  Directory,"  114 

Burton's  New  Theatre,  88,  99,  100,  101,  102 

Burton,  Robert,  158 

Burton's  Theatre,  Chambers  Street,  27,  29,  34,  36,  39,  40,  42, 
44,  47,  56,  63,  74,  85,  88,  93,  97,  99,  149,  168,  169,  172, 

175 
Burton,  Wm.   Evans,  subject  of  memoir,  mention,  preface  ; 


INDEX.  21$ 

birth  and  parentage,  education,  3  ;  edits  a  monthly  maga- 
zine, amateur  acting,  4  ;  adopts  the  profession,  first  ap- 
pearance in  London,  5  ;  succeeds  Listen  at  Haymarket, 
plays  with  E.  Kean,  6  ;  his  play  of  "  Ellen  Wareham," 
7  ;  progress  and  arrival  in  America,  8  ;  first  appearance 
in  America,  9  ;  portrait  by  Inman,  9  ;  his  success  in 
Philadelphia,  9  et  seq.  ;  his  musical  talent,  12  ;  develop- 
ment and  versatility,  13  ;  popularity  and  benefits,  14  ; 
busy  with  pen,  16  ;  starts  "  The  Gentleman's  Magazine," 
16  ;  connection  with  E.  A.  Poe,  16,  17  ;  letter  to  Poe,  18  ; 
literary  ventures,  19,  20 ;  President  Martin  Van  Buren 
an  auditor,  20  ;  amusing  experience  at  Napoleon,  20  et 
seq.  ;  speech  for  the  author  of  "  Antigone,"  22  ;  first  ap- 
pearance in  New  York,  22  ;  sundry  appearances,  23  ;  opens 
National  Theatre,  Phila.  ;  produces  "  Naiad  Queen"  ;  at 
Providence  ;  manager  in  New  York,  24  ;  loss  by  fire,  25  ; 
returns  to  Philadelphia,  26  ;  survey  of  career  in  Phila., 
27  et  seq.  ;  opens  Chambers  St.  Theatre,  36  ;  energy  and 
perseverance,  37  ;  charitable  benefits,  38  ;  popularity  of 
theatre,  39  ;  his  power  of  attraction,  40,  41  ;  encomium 
of  Jos.  N.  Ireland,  42,  43  ;  extended  mention  of  members 
of  company,  45-92;  produces  "  Dombey  and  Son,"  56; 
pleasantries  with  Brougham,  58  ;  stage  incident,  59  ; 
surprised  by  Thompson,  84  ;  amusing  correspondence  with 
Norton,  85,  note  ;  relations  with  Mrs.  Hughes,  88  ;  his 
attributes  as  manager,  95  ;  Shakesperian  revivals,  95,  96  ; 
plays  for  Dramatic  Fund  and  Centenary  Festival,  97,  98  ; 
plays  at  Niblo's,  99  ;  closes  Chambers  St.  and  opens  New 
Theatre,  99  ;  progress,  100  ;  plays  Dogberry,  appears  in 
Albany,  101  ;  in  Boston,  102  ;  New  Theatre  closed, 
starring  tour,  102  ;  last  appearance  in  New  York,  103  ; 
engagement  in  Canada,  and  letter  to  his  children,  103- 
110  ;  last  appearance  on  any  stage,  and  death,  no  ;  list  of 


2l6  INDEX. 

parts  acted,  111-117  \  personal  appearance,  121  ;  mental 
equipment,  122,  123  ;  an  expounder  and  representative 
of  the  humor  of  the  drama,  124,  125  ;  his  comic  power 
mentioned  by  Wemyss,  125  ;  his  performances  in  farce, 
123:  "  The  Mummy,"  134  et  seq.;  Madame  Vander- 
pants,  137  et  seq.;  "  The  Wandering  Minstrel,"  Pilli- 
coddy,  139.  His  specially  famous  parts  :  Paul  Pry,  144 
et  seq.  ;  Captain  Cuttle,  148  et  seq.  ;  Ireland's  tribute  to 
Cuttle  151,  note  ;  Aminadab  Sleek,  152  et  seq.  ;  stage  in- 
cident of  "  Serious  Family,"  153  ;  ushered  in  with  thun- 
der, 155  ;  Timothy  Toadies,  156  et  seq.  His  performances 
in  comedy,  icfietseq.:  Micawber,  160  ;  Mr.  Bumble,  161  ; 
Squeers,  Sam  Wetter,  162  ;  Bob  Acres,  164  ;  Tony  Lump  - 
kin,  Chas.  Goldfinch,  165  ;  Dr.  Ollapod,  166  ;  Sir.  Geo. 
Thunder,  Job  Thornberry  (see  59  and  68),  167;  Sir  Oliver 
Surface,  167  ;  Mr.  Graves,  Mock  Duke,  Adam  Brock, 
Van  Dunder,  168  ;  "  Nature's  Nobleman,"  168  ;  John 
Smith,  170  ;  Mr.  Sudden,  Thomas  Trot,  DonWhiskeran- 
dos,  Triplet,  171.  His  performances  in  Shakespeare  :  "  A 
Midsummer-Night's  Dream,"  171  ;  Bottom,  172  et  seq.  ; 
Sir  Toby  Belch,  174  ;  Caliban,  Autolycus,  Falstaff,  175  ; 
one  of  the  Carriers  in  "  Henry  IV.,"  176.  His  residence 
and  library  ;  story  of  the  painter,  Elliot,  179  ;  descrip- 
tion of  library,  181  et  seq. 

Burton,  Wm.  Geo.,  father  of  subject,  3,  4 

"  Busybody,"  the,  117 

Campbell,  Thos.,  142 
Carey  &  Hart,  20 
"  Caste,"  132 
Castle  Garden,  98 
"  Catspaw,"  the,  114 

Chambers    Street  Theatre  (see  Burton's  Theatre,  Chambers 
St.) 


INDEX.  2i; 

Chapman,  Caroline,  45  ;  extended  mention,  60,  61 

Chapman,   Mr.,  97 

"Charles  II.,"  94,  116 

"Charles  XII.,"  94,  116,  163,  168 

Chatham  Garden  Theatre,  53 

Chatham  Theatre,  97 

Chestnut  Street  Theatre,  13,  15,  26 

Chippendale,  Mr.,  97 

"  Cinderella,"  113 

Clapp,  W.  W.,  preface. 

Clarke,  C.  W.,  45 

"  Cockney,"  the,  116 

Cole,  John  O.,  90 

Collins,  John,  101 

Colman,  Geo.  (the  Younger),  9,  131,  167 

"  Comedy  of  Errors,"  in 

"  Comfortable  Lodgings,"  116 

Cooke's  Circus  Building,  Phila. ,  24 

Cooke,  Geo.  Fred.,  126 

"Cork  Leg,"  the,  song,  12 

Covent  Garden  Theatre,  166 

"  Crimson  Crimes,"  116 

"Critic,"  the,  113,  163 

"  Cupid,"  14 

"  Cure  for  the  Heartache,"  a,  69,  114 

Curwen,  Henry,  17,  note 

Cushman,  Charlotte,  24,  91,  97 

Cushman,  Susan,  24 

Daly,  Augustin,  132 

Daly's  Theatre,  38 

Dance,  Chas.,  65 

"  Dan  Keyser  de  Bassoon,"  36 


218  INDEX. 

"  David  Copperfield,"  61,  62,  74,  88,  93,  113,  160 

Davidge,  Wm.,  20,  21 

Dawson,  Mr.,  38 

"  Deaf  as  a  Post,"  n,  14,  116 

"  Delicate  Ground,"  65 

Devlin,  Mary,  45,  46,  47 

Dickens,  Charles,  62,  63,  73,  122,  149,  152,  161,  162 

"  Dombey  and  Son,"  extended  mention,    56,  60,  62,  63,  88, 

93,  112,  149,  152,  160 
Don,  Sir  Wm.,  98 
Doran,  Dr.,  7,  note 
4 '  Duel  in  the  Dark,"  a,  116 
"  Dutch  Governor,"  the,  112,  163,  168 
Dyott,  Jno.,  45,  71  ;  extended  mention,  76,  77,  167,  169 

Edinburgh,  Scotland,  127 

"  Education,"  115 

"  Ellen  Wareham,"  7,  8,  115 

Elliot,  C.  L.,  painter,  incident,  179,  180 

Elliston,  R.  W.,  3,  n 

Elphinstone,  Miss,  10 

Emerson,  R.  W.,  69 

"  Every  Man  in  His  Humor,"  75,  115 

"  Evil  Genius,"  112 

"False  Pretences,"  115 

"  Family  Jars,"  94,  115 

Farren,  Wm.,  85,  159 

"  Fascination,"  115 

"First  Night,"  the,  49 

Fisher,  Chas.,  45,  55,  70,  76  ;   extended  mention,  78-82,  171 

Florence,  Mrs.  W.  J.,  45,  46,  47 

Florence,  W.  J.,  92 


INDEX.  219 


Ford's  Theatre,  Boston,  37 

Forrest,  Edwin,  38,  51,  note 

"  Forty  Winks,"  23,  in 

"  Fox  Hunt,"  the,  98,  115 

Francis,  Jno.  W.,  126 

"  French  Spy,"  the,  114 

"  Friend  Waggles,"  114 

Front  Street  Theatre,  Baltimore,  26 

"  Genevieve,"  115 

George  IV.  (king),  5 

Gilbert,  Mrs.,  38,  97 

Gilbert,  John,  55 

"Giralda,"  117 

Glen  Gove,  L.  I.,  179 

Glover,  Mrs.,  7,  note 

"  Good  Night's  Rest,"  a,  113 

"  Great  Tragic  Revival,"  a,  115 

"  Gretna  Green,"  114 

"Guy  Mannering,"  113 

Hackett,  James,   175 

Hamblin,  Thos.,  97 

Hamilton,  Canada,  43,   88,  103 

"  Hamlet,"  117 

"  Hamlet  Travestie,"  116 

"  Happiest  Day  of  my  Life,"  the,  94,  113,  140 

"  Haunted  Man,"  the,  114 

Haymarket  Theatre,  London,  6,  10 

"  Hazel  Kirke,"  132 

Hazlitt,  Wm.,  125,  164 

"Heart  of  Gold,"  115 

"  Heir-at-Law,"  13,  82,  87,  112 


220  INDEX. 

"  Helping  Hands,"  115 

"  Henry  IV.,"  175 

"  High  Life  Below  Stairs,"  113 

Hoey,  Mrs.  (see  Mrs.  Russell) 

Hoey,  John,  46 

Holland,  Geo.,  45,  49,  85 

Holland  House,  129 

Holman,  Geo.,  45,  71,  85 

Holmes,  O.  W.,  93 

"  Home,"  132 

"  Honeymoon,"  the,  74,  113,  163 

Hood,  Thos.,  41,  130 

Hough,  Mrs.,  45 

"  How  to  Die  for  Love,"  15 

"  How  to  Make  Home  Happy,"  94,  117 

Hughes,  Hon.  Chas.,  88 

Hughes,  Mrs.,  45,  51,  extended  mention,   87,  90,  102,  103. 

139,  160,  162,  167,  169 
"  Hunchback,"  the,   74 
Hunt,  H.,  38 
Hunt,  Mrs.,  20 

Hutton,  Lawrence,  preface  ;  mention,  35,  36,  62 
"  Hypocrite,"  the,  13,  116 

"  111  Playing  with  Edged  Tools,"  't  is,  115 

"Innkeeper's  Daughter,"  the,  112 

Inman,  Henry,  painter,  9 

"Invisible  Prince,"  the,  116 

Ireland,  Jos.  N.,  preface  ;  mention,  28,  37,  39,  42,  101,  102, 

103,  in,  151,  note 
"Irish  Dragoon,"  the,  36 
"  Janet  Pride,"  116 
Jefferson,  Jos.  (ist),  n 


INDEX.  221 

Jefferson,  Jos.  (3d),  92,  101,  132,  142,  164 

"John  Bull,"  59,  69,  77,  112,  163 

"John  Jones,"  12,  14,  22,  no,  117 

"John  of  Paris,"  15 

Johnston,  T.  B.,  45  ;  extended  mention,  61,  73,  92,  160,  167 

Jonson,  Ben,  75,  76 

Jordan,  Geo.,  45,  71  ;  extended  mention,  74,  75,  97 

Kean,  Edmund,  6,  7,  note,  142 

Kemble,  J.  P.,  141 

Kent,  England,  5 

"  Kill  and  Cure,"  23,  114 

"  King's  Gardener,"  the,  114 

"  Kiss  in  the  Dark,"  a,  113 

Knowles,  J.  Sheridan,  10 

"  Ladies'  Man,"  the,  12,  14,  116 

"  Lady  of  Lyons,"  the,  114 

"  Lancers,"  the,  115 

"  Last  Man,"  the,  52 

"  Laughing  Hyena,"  the,  112 

"  Laugh  When  You  Can,"  98,  115 

Laura  Keene's  Theatre,  IOT 

"  Leap  Year,"  36,  112 

"Led  Astray,"  132 

"  Lend  Me  Five  Shillings,"  116] 

Leonard  and  Church  Sts.  Theatre,  24 

Lester,  J.  W.  (see  Lester  Wallack) 

Lewis,  W.  T.,  166 

Library,  Mr.  Burton's,  181  et  seq. 

"  Life  Among  the  Players,"  114 

List  of  Characters,  111-117 

Liston,  J.,  6,  II,  41,  125,  144,  168 


222  INDEX. 

"  Little  Toddlekins,"  84 

"  Loan  of  a  Lover,"  113 

London,  England,  3,  5,  9,  10,  II,  17,  note,  41 

"  London  Assurance,"  113 

Longfellow,  H.  W.,  124 

"Lottery  Ticket,"  the,  5,  8,  note,  9,  14,  113 

"Love  Chase,"  the,  113 

"  Love  in  a  Village,"  114 

"  Love  in  Humble  Life,"  114 

"Love  in  a  Maze,"  116 

"  Lucia  di  Lammermoor,"  33 

"  Lucy  Did  Sham  Amour,"  36 

"Macbeth,"  117 
"  Macbeth  Travestie,"  114 
Macready,  W.  C.,  37 
"  Maidens,  Beware,"  36 
Malvina,  Miss  (see  Mrs.  W.  J.  Florence) 
"  Man  of  Many  Friends,"  116 
"  Married  an  Actress,"  115 
"  Married  by  Force,"  115 
"  Married  Life,"  13,  113 
"  Masks  and  Faces,"  8r,  112,  163 
Mathews,  Chas.  (elder),  3 
Mathews,  Chas.  (younger),  45,  46,  84,  131 
Maywood  &  Co.  (managers),  9,  13 
Mechanics  Hall,  Hamilton,  Canada,  no 
"Merchant  of  Venice,"  the,  13,  98,  112 
"Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  the,  77,  84,  95,  in,  175 
Metropolitan  Theatre  (see  Burton's  New  Theatre) 
"  Midnight  Watch,"  the,  114 

"Midsummer-Night's    Dream,"  a,  75,    76,    80,  95;  extended 
mention,  96,  112,  171 


INDEX.  223 

"Miller's  Maid,"  the,  83 

"  Mind  Your  Own  Business,"  117 

Mississippi  River,  20 

Mitchell,  Maggie,  97 

"  Money,"  113,  163 

"Mormons,"  the,  115 

Morton,  J.  M.,  131 

"  Mrs.  Bunbury's  Spoons,"  117 

"  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,"  13,  114 

"  Mummy,"  the,  14,  112  ;  extended  mention,  134  et  seq. 

Munden,  J.  W.,  n,  54 

"  My  Awful  Dad,"  67 

"  My  Fellow  Clerk,"  116 

"  My  Wife  and  Umbrella,"  115 

"Naiad  Queen,"  the,  24,  25,  113 

Napoleon,  town,  20,  21,  22 

National  Theatre,  Leonard  St.,  N.  Y.,  22,  23 

National  Theatre,  Phila.  (formerly  Cooke's  Circus),  24 

"  Nature's  Nobleman,"  114,   163;    extended   mention,  168  et 

seq. 

Neilson,  Adelaide,  80 
"  New  Way  to  Pay  Old  Debts,"  a,  116 
New  York,  3,  n,  note,  22,  24,  25,  27,  28,  29,  33,  35,  37,  38, 

39,  42,  43,  47,  53,   55,  63,  67,  71,  88,  91,  98,  101,  103, 

148,  152,  179 

"  New  York  in  Slices,"  36 
Niblo's  Garden,  23,  99,  103 
"  Nice  Young  Man,"  a,  115 
"Nicholas  Nickleby,"  83,  85,  93,  113 
Norton,  W.  H.,  45,  71,  85  ;  correspondence  with  Burton,  85, 

note 
Norwich,  England,  5 


224  INDEX. 

"No  Song  No  Supper,"  14 

"  Not  So  Bad  As  We  Seem,"  117 

"Now-a-days,"  114 

"  Old  Guard,"  the,  49 
"  Old  Heads  and  Young  Hearts,"  115 
"  Oliver  Twist  "  (play),  93,  113,  160,  161 
Olympic  Theatre,  London,  41,  85 
Olympic  Theatre,  N.  Y.,  38,  97 
"One-Hundred-Pound  Note,"  116 
"Ours,"  132 
"Our  Set,"  115 

Palmo,  Ferdinand,  33 

Palmo's  Opera-House,  27,  33 

Pardey,  H.  O.,  168 

"  Paris  and  London,"  49,  113,  163 

Park  Theatre,  23,  25,  37,  38,  39 

Parsloe,  C.,  Jr.,  45,  85,  86 

Parsons,  Thos.  Wm.,  poem  of,  47,  48 

"  Patrician  and  Parvenu,"  23,  117 

"  Paul  Pry,"  50,  72,  94,  113  ;  extended  mention,  144  et  seq. 

Pavilion  Theatre,  London,  6,  9 

"  Peep  from  the  Parlor  Windows,"  114 

Pelham,  Miss,  10 

Perry,  H.  A.,  98 

Phelps,  H.  B.,  preface,  89 

Philadelphia,  9,  10,  n,  12,  24,  26,  27,  28,  29,  34,  35,  37 

"  Pickwickians,"  the,  94,  113 

Placide,  Henry,  24,  38,  45  ;  extended  mention,  48  et  seq.,  51, 

note,  92,  in,  147,  167  j 

Placide,  Thomas,  24 
"  Player's  Plot,"  115 


INDEX,  225 

"  Pleasant  Neighbors,"  114 

"  Ploughman  Turned  Lord,"  a,  83 

"  Pocahontas  ;  or,  The  Gentle  Savage,"  64 

Poe,  E.  A.,  16,  19 

Poole,  John,  144 

"Poor  Gentleman,"  the,  9,  13,  53,  72,  73,  77,  82,  87,  in, 

162,  166 

"  Poor  Pillicoddy,"  112 
"  Poor  Scholar,"  the,  115 
Povey,  Jno.,  38 
Power,  Tyrone,  14 
"  Pride  Must  Have  a  Fall,"  115 
"  Prince's  Frolic,"  the,  114 
Providence  Theatre,  24 

"  Raising  the  Wind,"  36,  116 

Raymond,  J.  T.,  92,  132,  142 

Raymond,  Miss,  45 

Raymond,  O.  B.,  61 

Rea,  Mrs.,  45 

Recollections  of  Burton's  acting,  121-176 

Reeve,  John,  14 

"  Rent  Day,"  the,  114 

"  Review,"  the,  113 

Richings,  Peter,  23,  38 

"Rip  Van  Winkle,"  132 

"Rivals,"  the,  9,  10,  13,  87,  99,  112,  162  . 

"  Road  to  Ruin,"  the,  13,  51,  54,  72,  74,  88,  112,  162,  165 

"  Robert  Macaire,"  112 

Robertson,  Agnes,  45,  46,  47,  90,  98 

Robertson,  T.  W.,  132 

Robson,  Stuart,  92 

"  Rosedale,"  132 


226  .       INDEX. 

Rowe,  Fawcett,  92 

Russell,  Mrs.  (nee  Shaw  ;  Mrs.  Hoey),  45,  46  ;  extended  men- 
tion, 62,  63,  note 

Sandy  Hill,  N.  Y.,  90 

Sartain,  J.,  engraver,  9 

"  School,"  132 

"  School  for  Grown  Children,"  115 

"  School  for  Scandal,"  the,  13  ;  cast  of,  37,  113,  132,  163 

"  School  for  Tigers,"  a,  47,  73 

"  School  of  Reform,"  the,  82 

"  Secrets  Worth  Knowing,"  114 

"  Self,"  112 

"  Serious  Family,"  the,  86,  94,  98,   112  ;  .extended  mention, 

152  et  seq.  ;  incident,  153  ;  story,  is's,  156 
Setchell,  D.,  45,  101 
Shakespeare,  29,  78,  96,  97,  100,  122,  123,  134,  172,  179,  180, 

181,  182 

Shaw,  Miss  (see  Mrs.  Russell) 
Shaw,  Mrs.,  38 

Sheridan,  R.  B.,  9,  64,  164  ^ 

"  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,"  13,  112,  132,  162 
"  Siamese  Twins,"  the,  140 
"  Simpson  &  Co.,"  113 
Simpson,  Edmund,  37 
Skerrett,  Mrs.,  45 
"  Sketches  in  India,"  14,  113 
"  Slasher  and  Crasher,"  112 
"Slave  Actress,"  the,  115 
Smith,  Sydney,  129 
"  Socialism,"  114 

"  Soldier's  Daughter,"  the,  n,  94,  97,  116 
Sophocles,  22 


INDEX.  227 

Sothern,  E.  A.,  132,  142 

South  wick,  S.,  90 

"  Spectre  Bridegroom,"  the,  116 

"Speed  the  Plough,"  13 

"Sphinx,"  the,  114 

"Spitfire,"  the,  116 

"Spring  and  Autumn,"  23,  116 

"Stag  Hall,"  115 

"State  Secrets,"  112 

"St.  Cupid,"  117 

"  Still  Waters  Run  Deep,"  75,  113 

Stone,  H.  D.,  preface,  51,  note 

St.  Paul's  School,  3 

"Stranger,"  the,  113 

"  Such  As  It  Is,"  114 

Sussex,  England,  5 

"  Sweethearts  and  Wives,"  13,  23,  112 

"  Take  That  Girl  Away,"  112 

Taylor,  Mary,  38,  45,  60,  66  ;   extended  mention,  91,  98,  169 

"  Tempest,"  the,  75,  81,  95,  112,  175 

"  Temptation,"  114 

Tennyson,  Lord,  97 

"  That  Blessed  Baby,"  140 

Theatres : 

American,   Phila.,  20 

Arch  Street,  Phila.,  9,  13,  26 

Astor  Place  Opera-House,  97 

Boston,  102 

Broadway,  38,  67,  note 

Brougham's  Lyceum,  N.  Y.,  60. 

Burton's,  Chambers  St.,  27,  29,  34,  36,  39,  40,  42,    'A,  47, 
56,63,  74,  85,  88,  93,  97,  99,  149,  168,  169,  172,*  .75 


228  INDEX. 

Theatres  (Continued)  : 

Burton's  New  (Metropolitan),  88,  99,  100,  101,  102 

Castle  Garden,  98 

Chatham,  N.  Y.,  97 

Chatham  Garden,  N.  Y.,  53 

Chestnut  Street,  Phila.,  13,  15,  26 

Cooke's  Circus,  Phila.,  24 

Covent  Garden,  London,  166 

Ford's,  Boston,  37 

Front  St.,  Baltimore,  26 

Haymarket,  London,  6 

Laura  Keene's,  101 

Leonard  and  Church  Sts.,  N.  Y.,  24 

Mechanics'  Hall,  Hamilton,  Canada,  no 

National,  Leonard  St.,  N.  Y.,  22,  23 

National,  Phila.,  24 

Niblo's  Garden,  23,  99,  103 

Olympic,  London,  85 

Olympic,  N.  Y.,  38,  97 

Palmo's  Opera-House,  27,  33 

Park,  N.  Y.,  23,  25,  37,  38,  39 

Pavilion,  London,  6 

Providence,  24 

Tripler  Hall,  N.  Y.,  99 

Union  Square,  N.  Y.,  132 

Wallack's  Lyceum,  64,  70 

Wallack's,  54,  132 

Washington,  26 
"  The  Cork  Leg,"  song,  12 

Thompson,  L.  S.,  45  ;  extended  mention,  82-84 
"  Three  and  Deuce,"  15 
"  Tom  Noddy's  Secret,"  112 
"  Toodles,"  the,  94,  112,  152  ;  extended  mention,  156 


INDEX.  229 

"  To  Parents  and  Guardians,"  49,  113 

Toronto,  Canada,  103 

Tripler  Hall,  N.  Y.,  99 

"  Turning  the  Tables,"  116,  140 

"  Turnpike  Gate,"  the,  116 

"  Twelfth  Night,"  49,  77,  78,  95,  112,  174 

"  Twice  Killed,"  114 

"  Two  Bonnycastles,"  the,  112 

"  Two  Buzzards,"  the,  116 

"  Two  Orphans,"  the,  132 

Union  Square  Theatre,  132 

United  States  Bank,  24 

"  Upper  Ten  and  Lower  Twenty,"  116 

"  Used  Up,"  67,  note. 

Van  Buren,  Martin,  President,  20 

"  Vanity  Fair,"  117 

41  Venice  Preserved,"  15 

"  Vicar  of  Wakefield,"  the,  114 

• 
Walcot,  C.  M.,  38,  64 

Walcott,  Mrs.,  97 

Wallack,  Fanny,  45,  161 

Wallack,  J.  W.  (elder),  14,  15,  16,  22,  23,  25,  46 

Wallack,   Lester,   45,   51  ;   extended  mention,  65  et  seq.>  67, 

note,  72,  74,  75,  78,  92,  175 
Wallack's  Lyceum,  64,  70 
Wallack's  Theatre,  54,   132 
"Wall  Street,"  115 

"  Wandering  Minstrel,"  the,  112,  133,  139 
"  Wanted,  1,000  Milliners,"  113  ;  extended  mention,  137  etseq. 
Washington  Theatre,  26 


230  INDEX. 

"  Water  Party,"  the,  23,  114 
Watson,  Miss,   15 
Watson,  Mrs.,   15 
"  Way  to  Get  Married,"  the,  68 
Wemyss,  F.  C.,  preface,  15,  25,  33,  125 
"  West  End,"  the,  68 
Weston,  Lizzie,  45,  46,  68,  169 
"  Wheel  of  Fortune,"  the,  77 
White,  R.  W.,  80,  172 
' '  Widow  Machree, "  song,  90 
"  Widow's  Victim,"  the,  112 
J4  Wild  Oats,"  67,  117,  162 
Williams,  Mrs.  Barney,  47 
Windsor,  England,  5 
Winstanley,  Mrs.,  38 
"  Winter's  Tale,"  95,  98,  175 
Winter,  Wm.,  28 
"Witch  Wife,  "the,  115 
Wood,  Wm.  B.,  preface,  14,  34 
Woodworth,  Sam'l,  poet,  22 
Wynne,  James,  M.D.,   181 

"Young  Actress,"  the,  47,  90 
Young,  Mrs.  (see  Mrs.  Hughes) 
"  Young  Quaker,"  the,  115 
"  You're  Another,"  116 
"Youthful  Days  of  Louis  XIV.,"  117 


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